The Legend that was Nemene
by sidious7
Summary: The story describing the legendary Restorer Nemene Damendar Boann and how she ultimately changed into Semirhage, one of the most feared Forsaken
1. Chapter 1

**_The Legend that was Nemene_**

_**Chapter One**_

The sky was serene. It was almost dusk and the exquisite molten drop that was the sun had approached the horizon and was busy igniting the surrounding cloud formations into a beautiful collage of red, blue and purple. It's final display before nightfall. The giant sho-wing cut through the placidity, soaring at an impossible velocity at a dizzying height.

Nemene peered out through the window to her right, calmly surveying their expedited descent into the beautiful city of Tzora. With at least another ten minutes to go until landing, the Sho-wing was already skirting the boundaries of the colossal city – one of the largest in the world. Despite her inward calm, Nemene felt a sense of irritation, inwardly vexed that her evening had been disrupted. After a long day's work she had hoped to laze about in her penthouse apartment in the exclusive Heron district of Paaren Disen. Her well thought out plans had included drinking some fabulously expensive red wine from Paral while reading the newest fiction novel by Cassali (whose complex plots always intrigued her) against a backdrop of a monumental symphony … Lionel for instance. That would have to wait.

Being a legend had its drawbacks. Clearly she had feasted on all the benefits associated with the mastery of her art, but times like these were relatively common, and inevitable as the price for greatness. With a brief sniff she turned away from the captivating view and hailed the stewardess.

"Rasberry juice with a dash of lime, please", she mentioned curtly to the attending stewardess.

After receiving her sundowner she lazed back slightly in her large leather seat, using the time to compose her thoughts before the wheels touched the ground. She was used to privilege; she couldn't remember when she had last flown anything but first-class on a flight. Picking up the file addressed to her, she placed the relevant documentation to one side and placed the digital disk in the console seated within her right armrest. Inserting an earpiece into her right ear she waited patiently for the disc to start playing. Moments later the display on the plasma screen above her left armrest activated displaying a spiraling Health Department sigil. As the sigil faded the well known aging face of Roedran Tenel Veleron appeared and began to speak…

"Good day to you Nemene. As you know we leave only the most difficult cases to you, and we believe this qualifies. Early this afternoon, the pregnant wife of Prime Counsellor Opien was involved in a serious accident when her luxury Jo-car collided with a fuel tanker on the main continental freeway. Her chauffeur and personal assistant were killed instantly. Mrs Opien, however, survived – but in a worse than critical state."

Nemene was drawn from the first word. These missions were like the most elusive puzzles to solve and the more they challenged her, the more she was drawn. Certain words like 'serious', 'killed' and 'critical' always made her eyes flare involuntarily sending pulses of heat and pleasure rushing through her.

"… Of course, after their nine best Restorers failed in their attempts, we sent two of our best. When they failed we knew that we would have to get one of our foremost to aid her. She is a woman of considerable influence and power, you understand. Losing her will have … implications. Her injuries are above most of us – except for you, and perhaps Kendar of course."

Laughing softly to herself, Nemene understood. A woman of power and influence … of course. The rich and famous always caused her the worst inconvenience. Their supporters, contacts and aids would move the planet to have their idols Healed if need be. Her laugh only lasted moments though – she was beyond rich and famous herself. Without a doubt, she was one of the most famous and wealthy women in the world and yet she was summoned like some servant dog to Heal those who couldn't stand near to her on any pedestal. It filled her with revulsion. She was over 400 years old yet she looked well short of her middle years – and in all those years she had never met anyone who approached her Talent with Healing. Kendar was named as her male counterpart but only because he was accomplished and had his third name too, which required great mastery with the Talent. Granted, he was more skilled than her regarding cardiovascular injuries but then, men were naturally stronger in certain areas of Healing. That left her every other system to dominate – which she did. She had been on at least ten missions with him over the past two years when a circle had been deemed the rational choice. Despite her dismissive scoff that she would need any aid in Healing anyone, she understood that it was yet more advertising on the Hall's part demonstrating to young Aes Sedai that even two of their greatest could work together. She always smiled when she thought of Kendar. Despite being her proverbial equal, Kendar used to demand that an extra Restorer link with them just so that Nemene could lead the circle. When she asked him whether he wanted to lead he would begin to sweat and pitifully back away. Her equal indeed … the man was a hound begging for the scraps which fell from her gilded plate.

"… she has suffered major burns to the majority of her body and is rapidly progressing to multiple organ dysfunction syndrome. She has sustained a severe brain injury and at least four long bone fractures. The baby is six weeks premature and is alive, but clearly on the verge of fetal distress. More details will be available when you arrive at the hospital. As you know, we would allow you to Travel right to the area immediately, but the entire city has been warded for the New Year's fireworks display tomorrow night. The wards tend to interfere with gateways, so we took the safe, but slower option. Your help is greatly appreciated. I will be in Tzora later on in the day. I may come over to have a chat. First Restorer out."

Removing the disk, she placed it in the cover. The aircraft rolled lazily to the right and the familiar drum of the lowered landing gear filled the cabin accompanied by the Captain's sentimental adorations for choosing his Sho-line. Passing over the city centre she could see the colossal Tzoran skyscrapers reaching up to her … hundreds of feet into the air and almost all made of crystal ranging from light blue to fiery red. The view was breathtaking as the buildings caught the diminishing sunlight and scattered it many times over. Roedran in Tzora - that was strange. Usually he would spend New Year's in Paaren Disen with the rest of the upper class basking in Lews Therin's greatness and prestige. Perhaps he was here for business of his own, or worse – to check up on her like some child. Random reviews were not unheard of, but she hadn't been checked for over two decades now. Maybe he'd come to learn something about her methods or perhaps Kendar claimed she was bullying him. That _would_ be amusing.

After touching down, the main terminal of Barid Bel Medar International came into view. It was a modern architectural wonder made of the best Tzoran crystal created by the world's foremost architects less than five years ago. Alighting first from the Sho-wing she strode away from the masses who would follow. Nemene was a model of grace and elegance. She was wearing some of her better attire tonight; that being a relative term considering all her clothing was exclusive design wear. Her long dress was made from the finest silks and its layers of green, yellow and red flowed down her tall physique. After being handed her cloak she promptly placed it over her bare shoulders, each now covered with the half-white half-black disk separated by a sinewed line. It was the symbol of Aes Sedai, and it added to the legend that was her. Striding into the First Class lounge, she turned almost every head, partly due to her fame and partly due to her striking appearance.

A blonde-haired girl quickly approached her. Cloaked in the same way, she was obviously Aes Sedai too, but young … and short. Nemene was tall, even for a man, but to her it was yet another omen of her standing above all women, and most men.

"Nemene Damendar Boann? It is a great honour. A very great honour indeed. I am Sashelle Sedai and I've come to escort you to Talishar Memorial Hospital. If you would follow me."

Nemene followed without expression or comment. The girl was obviously overcome with admiration with her permanent idiotic smile and her glances in Nemene's direction when she thought no one was looking.

"You have been Aes Sedai long?" Nemene asked. Conceding to some frivolous talk could perhaps dissuade that fool smile from her face.

"Twenty years, High Restorer."

"You have the Talent?"

"Yes, High One. Possibly as high as category 6. I'm hoping to come into my title as Restorer within the next decade with luck."

"Perhaps. It will take some hard work on your part. And confidence and practice. You can handle six flows?"

The girl looked down and blushed. "Not yet, High One. I can only manage four at the present time. And I'm weak and clumsy with Fire." Nemene could see tears glistening in her eyes.

"Then practice. And don't feel sorry for yourself. They won't raise you unless you can split at least six ways. Before retiring at night, spend one hour channeling three flows of Fire. One full hour, you understand. You won't believe the difference. If after six months you find you have not progressed _and_ you have practiced as I said, then you are truly weak in Fire. I would then advise investing everything you have in a ter'angreal to focus Fire. I say everything because they are direly expensive, even for one such as I."

"Thank you, High One. Thank you so much. I cannot tell you how grateful I am for your unique counsel. I shall do exactly as you say."

They strode on in silence to the luxury Jo-car which had been sent for her. Climbing in they raced away in the direction of the city centre, As the buildings passed by, Nemene could see evidence of saidar in wards on every street corner. The way the wards kinked indicated saidin. Not even inverted. How inconsiderate. Nemene glanced at the girl who was sitting in silence on the other side of the Jo-car looking at her hands, obviously in deep thought.

Sashelle was stronger than the average woman. With practice she could become a decent Restorer, but her self-effacing attitude and low self-esteem were despicable. The trademark of a loser. Nemene smiled. Was she being too harsh? Was she too arrogant? She laughed. The girl glanced at her and joined in the humour. The rest of the journey was made in silence.

Perhaps she had become arrogant after all her years. She had been born with everything. Her parents were both extremely wealthy, but amazingly neither could channel and they had died centuries ago leaving her a vast fortune. Being an only child, she could focus on her training. She was strong in saidar, oh yes, so very strong. It was so rare for a woman to exceed her that she would often blink and look the fool when she came upon the occurrence. Luckily that had only happened twice, once at a psychiatry conference when she met the noted Kamarille Maradim Nindar, and the other time when she crossed paths with a stunning young girl with long black hair training to be Aes Sedai over a century ago. She doubted those two women had any exceptional Healing Talent, and she wondered if they were also as masterfully strong as she in all of the Five Powers. No matter, they were no threat. That young girl had irritated her though. She seemed more arrogant than she herself, and despite being exquisitely beautiful, she was considerably stronger. Nemene doubted a stronger woman existed in the world. Another perfect little package, much like Nemene. She scowled at the window; she was a jealous woman even though she wouldn't admit it. That girl had even managed to snare Lews Therin for a short time before he booted the tramp out onto the sidewalk. She found she was smiling again. The Jo-car had slowed down and finally stopped.

"We are here, Nemene Sedai."

"I see so, Sashelle. Come by my apartments in Paaren Disen one week from today. I'll teach you some tricks I've learned. Take you under my wing, shall we say?"

"A great honour, Aes Sedai. I gladly accept."

"I'll have my secretary elec-mail you the details regarding my residence. Until then."

"Farewell High One, and thank you."

Stepping out of the Jo-car, Nemene curtly thanked the chauffeur who had opened the door for her but inwardly berated herself. Why had she decided to take this oaf under her wing? Perhaps she was merely in a charitable mood. Or perhaps she had finally become bored with exaggerated luxury and the superficial cocktail parties which saturated her glamorous life. Perhaps her soul was crying out for a new challenge – but to teach a hopeless case? That was reaching too far, but it was too late to recant without losing face.

The hospital was a magnificent sight – a large cueran building approximately twenty levels in height. This must be Talishar Memorial – the best Care Centre in the city. _Not bad_ she thought. It could give some bigger cities' hospitals a run for their money but surely not Paaren Disen's which was at least as beautiful and over fifty times larger. Stepping through the electronic glass doors she was warmly greeted by a delegation of Restorers and a small legion of admirers who had picked up on her arrival.

"Nemene Damendar Sedai, I am Korgade Jubanti – chief Restorer in Tzora. I must thank you for your hasty consultation. We have tried everything and we know that if you cannot help her, none of us can."

"Right you are, Korgade. Let us skip the pleasantries and see to the patient."

"Of course, Restorer. Of course. If you would follow me."

Walking through the white passages Nemene gracefully maintained her poise. Nurses and patients gasped when they saw her, but she was accustomed to this. She would have woven Illusion if it didn't instantly reveal how transparent and shakable she was. A small army followed hastily behind her … at least fifteen Restorers, some well into their retirement years, thirty Restorer apprentices and about ten random Aes Sedai who had been pulled in by the hysteria. What did _they _hope to learn from her? Did they really think they could duplicate anything she did? Her brief snort caused Korgade to miss a step, but he hastily caught up with her. Entering the theatres she stepped through the decontamination ter'angreal which removed all potential pollutants and pathogens she might have dragged in with her. A crowd had gathered around the theatre housing Mrs Opien. Stepping into the theatre she was introduced to a scene of chaos and disharmony. Very soon she would become angry. Two Restorers were arguing loudly, nurses were shouting at one another, one was in tears, and two technicians were busy shouting Mrs Opien's vital signs to anyone who would listen. In the middle lay a thrashing monstrosity, a hideously burned char groaning and convulsing.

"You never Healed the burns?"

"Pardon, Nemene Sedai, but her cerebral wounds opposed the Healing weave, and we didn't know how to Heal burns without Fire and prevent fetal harm at the same time."

"Perhaps, but I would say that the mother's life is more important in this scenario. The child could been seen as a necessary sacrifice to save her. It's all irrelevant at this stage anyway. In five seconds from now I want this theatre cleared. I want your best Restorer to stay and one nurse. One composed nurse. Now move!"

Korgade immediately started screaming orders and people whisked by Nemene in a furious attempt to clear the room before she was roused to anger. The theatre was still in terrible disarray, the floor covered with papers, used needles and intravenous drip sets.

"I am Larissa, Nemene Sedai. I'll be assisting you."

"Clean this theatre quickly please. I can't work in a pigsty." Nemene realized that she still sounded calm but deep inside a flame was building. These simpletons couldn't run a street stall, never mind a hospital. And in one of the greatest cities in the world! It was a disgrace. The dark-haired woman with interlaced streaks of grey suddenly glowed with the light of saidar, and eight flows of Air started mopping up the area with occasional trickles of Water and Fire to clean puddles or incinerate garbage.

"Good. You are to monitor her vital signs and perform whatever I tell you without question."

"Yes, High Restorer."

The masses had filed into a gallery with a glass observation deck twenty feet above her head. No doubt this hospital was used for academic reasons too. She could see the Aes Sedai watching fervently, as well as small streams of saidar trickling into the male Aes Sedai. They had likely linked with their female friends so that they could see her wonders with saidar. Hastily walking over to Mrs Opien, Nemene embraced the Source and Delved her, feeling for every anomaly from the life-threatening subdural haematoma pressing her brain, to her broken ring finger on her left hand, to her elevated plasma potassium levels. Twenty-two abnormalities for her to deal with; not her record but close enough.

Stepping back, she glanced at the gallery who were excitedly and animatedly chatting behind the sound proof glass. She doubted a third of them could duplicate that weave. The poignant moment had now arrived. A demonstration of the Legend that was Nemene Damendar Boann. She drew on the Power, drew on saidar until she could draw no more. Filled with the ecstasy of the Power she could see, hear and smell with an edge that blunted her normal state. The Power was everything. Taking a deep breath she began her weaving. She _would_ succeed.

Weaving Fire and Spirit she set the weave around the spinal cord in the fifth cervical space which would provide total anaesthesia. At the same time she split her flow and wove Spirit streaked with Air and Water and wove it around the hippocampal area of the patient's brain to produce a sense of euphoria and calm serenity. A third flow tied a complex flow of Spirit around the hypothalamic area of the brain to maintain stability of the blood pressure, pulse and temperature.

"What is the ambient temperature?"

"Twenty-one degrees Celsius in this room. Patient body temperature 33.6 degrees Celsius."

Splitting her flow for the fourth time she wove a net of Fire around the room which would heat the air and help raise Mrs Opien's suboptimal core temperature. Tying off the weave she continued.

"Let me know when the room temperature equates normal body temperature."

"As you say, High One."

Mrs Opien had stopped thrashing about and Nemene's three maintained flows kept her stable for the time being. Forming the fourth flow again she wove Fire and Water and stimulated the alpha and beta receptors in Mrs Opien's heart and blood vessels producing a more optimal cardiac output.

"Status."

"Pulse 120, BP 110 over 50, Haemoglobin 3.1, Glucose 1.8 millimols per litre, temperature 35.6 degrees Celsius."

The cardiovascular output was acceptable for the moment but Nemene was perturbed by the patient's anaemia and low blood sugar. She had detected a hole in the patient's aorta when she Delved her, and the femur fractures would have added to the blood loss. Splitting the fifth flow she wove all five Powers and stimulated the patient's bone marrow, immediately sensing a huge release of red cells into the patient's circulation. _Most acceptable._ Weaving her sixth flow she wove Water with touches of Spirit and stimulated the liver to convert its stores into sugar to fuel Mrs Opien's ravenous body.

"Improvement?"

"Yes. All parameters within normal limits. Even body temperature."

Hastily unraveling the Fire knot around the room, she contemplated her next move while still maintaining the other six flows. She had to start working on the injuries or she would soon be back where she started. Weaving her seventh flow she wove Earth, Fire and Spirit and instantly Healed the seven severe fractures afflicting the patient. She would have to maintain that weave for some time to provide the necessary calcification for the newly woven bone. New Restorers often forgot to do this and the delighted patient would leap from the bed and break their leg again. Weaving Fire, Air and Spirit she repaired the hole in the aorta using an eighth flow but quickly altered it to replace the Air with Earth. Suddenly all the congealed haemorrhaged blood was drawn out of the patient's body. It was useless, the clotting cascade could not be reversed, only halted. Weaving Fire she incinerated the useless material in midair. The patient was slowly improving but she still had severe burns and a large head injury. Weaving Fire, Air and Spirit she caressed every surface of Mrs Opien's cracked flesh with this intricate weave. Pink skin immediately replaced the ruined tissue leaving ash to fall to the floor. Fire would normally harm a fetus if used to regenerate tissues like skin, but very few Restorers knew that Air opposed this effect. She would have to maintain this flow too for a while to prevent Mrs Opien's body from using her own energy to fuel the Healing effort. Eight maintained flows, but there was more. Weaving all five Powers into a weave of extreme complexity she aimed the ninth flow at the area where Mrs Opien's brain had bled. The blood diminished and then vanished, and the brain tissue slowly started regenerating thanks to the unnatural stimulation the Earth and Spirit had on the growth genome. The Spirit and Water also took care of memories and remembered functions in that new brain cellularity. Mrs Opien would be as good as new when she was awoke and wouldn't need to spend months learning to speak or walk again, or the like. With the patient healthy and saved she could concentrate on the fetus. Weaving her tenth flow she Delved the fetus, and was surprised to find him alive, yet distressed. Modifying the flow to a razor sharp weave of Air, she sliced down to the uterus in one smooth swing and floated him out shortly thereafter. Slicing the umbilical cord and placenta she floated the neonate over to the infant trolley.

"Delve him," she told Larissa.

Using that same tenth flow, she wove all five Powers and started knitting the cut tissues back together leaving no evidence of a scar. No evidence of anything really.

"Cardiac arrest and Apnea."

Time for her eleventh flow – a rarity among even strong males. Weaving Fire she hurled it into the child's chest and watched in expectation as the child gasped and the pulse returned. Delving the child she added Water and Air to the flow and started rejuvenating the child whose colour rapidly changed from blue to pink. It was done. Larissa, with her back to her, was now tending the baby. And now for the extra bit … weaving Fire and Spirit she stimulated Mrs Opien's pain centres. The patient immediately started groaning and rolling about in agony. She could feel joy rushing through her, she wanted to harm the patient, make her feel agony. The doors to the theatre swung open and she released all her flows and the Source on the instant. A group of adoring Aes Sedai suddenly swarmed her, thanking her and applauding what they considered to be miraculous work. Smiling preemptively she offered her thanks and started slowly for the exit of the theatres, only to find herself face to face with Roedran Veleron, his half-smile present but clearly forced.

"Well done Nemene. A truly unique act. You will be lauded for this for weeks to come in almost every newspaper. I was watching from the gallery until a few seconds ago, and I have never seen such dexterity with saidar. My wife kindly allowed me to link with her."

"I'm honoured you came Roedran. I expected to see you later. As you can see I have done my duty for Mrs Opien, and understandably I feel overworked. If you will excuse me…"

"Not yet, Nemene. I need to have a word with you. Follow me to one of the side conference rooms. Now."

Gliding in silence alongside Roedran, Nemene entered the conference room first and calmly took a seat in one of the leather chairs used for medical conference delegates. Roedran's smile was gone now, replaced with malice and a tinge of disgust. Suddenly she felt uneasy. Surely he couldn't know?

"You've been very independent of late Nemene. No audits, no inspections. Nothing. Until a few months ago when some disturbing reports entered my offices regarding your Healing."

"My patients are all as well as can be."

"Indeed they are, but there is another element. They owe their lives to you and yet, they owe more than that, don't they?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"Don't you?" Roedran asked with malevolent amusement in his eyes. She had the feeling he was forcibly restraining himself from physically attacking her. He handed her a sealed document. "Here is a summons Nemene. One week from now you will appear before a commission to defend yourself against these allegations. I myself am certain that you will know the allegations before reading a word of that document."

"You were here today. You saw what I did!"

"Oh yes I did. I saw. I saw _everything_. Rules have been broken. Laws even. Someone must pay, and today I discovered who." She opened her mouth to form a rebuttal but he instantly turned on his heel and strode out of the room at a murderous pace.

For the longest time Nemene stared ahead of her, unconsciously toying with the envelope in her hand. Steeling a deep breath, Nemene rose to her feet. Ignoring the mild tremor in her arms and the ascending feeling of nausea building in her stomach, she embraced saidar, partly for comfort and partly for purpose. Weaving Spirit she opened a gateway to her apartment in Paaren Disen, barely noticing the weave's shimmer as it resonated with the fireworks wards. This act would cost her a heavy fine; Travelling from unassigned areas was forbidden. She didn't care. Her life was about to undergo a potential catastrophic shift and worse things were going to be lost than money. Stepping through the gateway, she contemplated the following week's events. She would need to consider possibilities and potential decisions. There were those who would seize any opportunity to bring her down. They would try to steal from her … assets, status and more. She almost wished they would try. Softly gliding through the apartment, she released the gateway and the Source. That fire which roared within her chest begged for a release, and very soon she expected she would be able to provide it with some direction. This time she did smile, and if anyone had been there to see it, they would have soiled themselves.

To be continued…


	2. Chapter 2

_**The Legend that was Nemene**_

_**Chapter 2**_

Nemene moved through the next few days in a delirious trance, and every time she thought that the foreboding week couldn't move with more frustrating delay, she was equally amazed at how quickly it flew by. She spent her days dancing around her luxury penthouse like a giddy schoolgirl, allowing her sound system to play her classical operas at groundshaking volumes. Turning on her deft toes, she softly sang to the pure tones of the great symphony while occasionally sipping from the glass of red wine in her left hand.

It was as if she had been on a wonderful vacation, only not. From the moment she had Travelled back from Tzora, she had decided to never again aid in the Healing of an ailing citizen. Put her on trial, would they? Let them feel how painful a world could be without the unique abilities of Nemene Demandar Boann. Her first few days of solitude had been plagued by a myriad of calls and pleas to Heal grievously ill or injured people from various areas of the world, eventually leading up to a call from Roedran demanding she respond to her mission allocations and even reading a clause from her contract citing further transgressions which would be appended to her upcoming trial. The sheer joy of launching a fireball in the direction of her communications array had been almost overwhelming. At night she would watch the news and send madly hysterical laughter into the night as she and the world were informed of the deaths of illustrious citizens who had died that day because _no Restorer in the world was able to save them._ She _would_ rather die than save another insect crawling around in those cities.

The night before her trial assumed a depressing yet somber atmosphere. Wearing a streith nightgown, she lazed on her leather sleeper couch while listening to a soft classical rendition. Twirling the empty crystal wine glass in her hand she pondered her situation and how to approach it. Her soul was so intensely saturated with hatred and fury that it was difficult to maintain any coherent thought. Placing the glass on the table in front of her, she controlled her thoughts and imagined them being consumed by a flame located in a vast and empty void. It was a mental exercise for apprentice students, but an effective one. Her streith gown shifted from its almost constant red and black colour to a misty opaque semblance. She was almost certain of the next day's outcome, but that was near irrelevant to her. What was important were the events which followed, and she still wasn't certain how she would be able to pull them off and escape at the same time. Perhaps the answer would come to her later.

That night she experienced a peaceful and deep sleep – something which surprised her when she later thought on it. The next day she donned some of her best attire, a red and yellow silk dress covered in intricate patterns of firedrops and draped in a dark green shawl. These imports from Comelle could pass her off as royalty, which she was in a way. She took the elevator to the roof of her penthouse, five levels up. Walking casually to the centre of the roof, she stood within a demarcated area shaped like a six-pointed star. To own a personal Travelling ground was usually a sign of extreme wealth, although occasionally they were presented as retirements gifts to very old Aes Sedai, to save them the trouble of walking all the way to a registered area to Travel. It was a neat thought, and she chuckled as she wondered sarcastically if she was in the running for one of these gifts. No. The senior Restorers already envied her, and they had probably let loose a few rumours to the junior ranks. She probably had less than one day before the world let loose a collective gasp when they learned what the trial meant, and what the great Nemene had done. Embracing saidar, she wove Spirit and watched indifferently as a silvery slash appeared opening into a gateway looking onto the Hall of the Servants in Paaren Disen.

Stepping through, she released the Source and walked briskly towards the main entrance. Old colleagues and adoring younger Aes Sedai rushed to greet her, but she repelled them with a sneer or a disgusting vulgarity. Now was as good a time as any to start making enemies, and besides, she hated them all anyway. It was refreshing to display her thoughts openly for the first time in centuries. Maintaining her stride, she passed into the main entrance hall which was flanked by enormous crystal columns each glowing with a fragmented inner light. As she walked through the Great Doors, she passed through a large ter'angreal shaped like a doorway and made of a dark metallic substance.

"_Damendar, Nemene honorific Boann. Restorer first class. Entrance all floors, all levels."_

Rolling her eyes, she proceeded. She had passed through this ter'angreal so many times she had lost count, but suspected this would be her last. Walking to the main elevator, she pressed the button which would take her to the one hundredth and tenth floor. All trials and meetings of importance were held on the top floor in the Telamon Room. As the doors were closing, two approaching Aes Sedai met her deathly glare as she dared them to try and share the elevator with her. A few seconds later she stepped out and walked towards the closed doors of the Telamon Room. Touching saidar, she wove a small flow of Air which gently opened both doors.

The inside of the Telamon Room was breathtaking. It was a large circular room with beautiful white marble floors, with the large symbol of the Aes Sedai dominating the centre of the room. A semi-circular table faced the entrance of the room with thirteen large cuendillar chairs spaced around it. She noticed another less satisfactory chair a few paces in front of her which faced the arc – which was probably intended for her. Almost the entire room was surrounded by massive glass windows which provided a unique view of the world's most impressive city. One of the first things she had done when her status granted her full access to the building was to come here at night and stare at the sea of lights which floated below her. She had not done that in some time, which was perhaps a telltale sign of how stale and mundane her life had become.

She suspected that all the chairs would be full, and they were. She was greeted by a scene which would daunt most Aes Sedai. All thirteen chairs were filled by the most senior Aes Sedai available, almost all of them old and gray with grim demeanours– and peculiarly, another older man with close-cropped white hair stood to the side of the table with an odd smirk covering his face. She recognized a few of the Aes Sedai. Roedran sat in the centre, his right as First Restorer superceded any other claims of authority in this specific case. Three spaces to the left sat Corelle Hachaman Sendar, a world renowned Dreamer who had managed to foresee a meteor strike which would have destroyed half the world had the Aes Sedai not been able to destroy it from a distance. Others of repute included Jaric Mandoran, a philanthropist whose contributions to Tzora included setting up huge museums and art galleries … and the greatly aged Lillith Tarasin Sukawa who basically invented and constructed the first sa'angreal. Now _that_ was a fine contribution to society, even if she had to grudgingly admit it. She was vexed that the Tamyrlin himself didn't have the time to judge a person of her immense importance, or even some of the other master Aes Sedai like Barid Bel Medar, but both were leading the western armies against a sizeable rebellion by Kesaran Separatists in the western provinces. Ever since the Collam Daan had been destroyed four years ago by a bizarre scientific experiment, the world had slowly plunged into greater degrees of lawlessness and crime. No one could explain it, but over the past two years outright rebellion and fighting had started in several large districts, which was unheard of! She never complained, though … the endless tirade of cut up soldiers and victims of Sha'je duels provided her with a great financial incentive.

As soon as she entered, Roedran rose from his chair and channeled, closing the doors again. When she took a seat, he spoke in a grim, but hasty manner…

"Let's get on with this, I don't want to waste any more time. Nemene Damendar Boann, you have responded to a summons to attend a hearing on this day on the charge of abusing your position as a Restorer. The details include … torturing … your patients while Healing them, along with a few appended transgressions added over the passed few days. Do you have any opening remarks?"

"I don't want to waste any more time either. Get on with your charges and ask what you want of me. Either way, I'm certain you've determined my fate already, despite anything I may say."

Roedran met her cold eyes with a hard stare of his own. "You would do well to moderate your tone with this committee, Nemene. Things might turn out better for you. Not much better, but perhaps the difference between an intolerable existence and a disgraced one."

Roedran's face was blank, but she immediately noted a sarcastic undertone and perhaps an eager one. A fire burned in her heart, a wild desire to lash out with all of her strength and destroy him where he stood. He was weaker than her in the Power, but her victory would be short-lived with thirteen other channelers flanking the room. She resisted the drive to erupt, but kept a mental note. Somehow, somewhere … Roedran was going to pay. She opened her mouth and spoke in smooth tones, contempt dripping from every word.

"As you wish, First Restorer. So… which of you is going to try and break me? You Roedran? Or perhaps someone else? Someone fair and unbiased even?"

Roedran's faced turned red with anger, but as he opened his mouth to angrily counter her insult, the white haired man stepped forward, his irritating smirk still present on his face.

"I shall have the honours, Nemene. I am Duram Laddel Cham. Normally I don't take part in trials outside of M'Jinn, but this is a special case and the committee members made it well worth my while." He finished with a wide smile. He might have appealed to Nemene had that smile not reeked of malice, and considering the circumstances. Her small snort prompted that smile to slip slightly.

"Ah yes, I recall seeing your name flashing across the tabloids last year. You managed to get Grace le Chatellier acquitted for a murder for which she seemed plainly guilty. Freeing the guilty, and condemning the innocent. This obviously explains why you were at the top of Roedran's list." She finished with a mocking smile shared between Duram and Roedran, and it was wonderful to see that she'd finally pulled that sickening grin off Duram's face. Roedran, though, looked livid.

"Hold your filthy tongue, Nemene! This will be the last time that I warn you to show respect for this delegation. If you cannot maintain your composure, then perhaps you should be tried like a common brigand in the city court!"

"Composure, Roedran? Am I the one bouncing around the Telamon Room like rabid Dvorjak Hound?" Her sneer was aimed at him, but inside she could feel a bubbling sense of pleasure, knowing that she was unraveling those who were trying to break her. Clearly this trial was not running according to Roedran's plans. She would give him what he wanted soon enough, but she was still having too much fun toying with him. He once again looked like he wanted to physically attack her, and even some of the committee members were looking at him askance, but his head jerked in Duram's direction and he spoke in concise infuriated tones.

"Duram, get on with it. I want to be out of here as soon as possible."

Stepping forward, Duram drew himself up, as if readying himself for an execution. His face was grim now, and quite formidable, but it had been many decades since anyone had intimidated her. Obviously he was also not accustomed to mockery, and she struggled not to mock him with laughter. He opened his mouth, but this time his speech was formal and eloquent, quite different from his previous address.

"Nemene Damendar Boann, you have been brought before this court because you have violated one of the most sacred codes which bind all Aes Sedai. Despite the fact that you are one of the great Restorers of our time, you have been using the One Power to torture your patients while at the same time Healing them. Our investigations lead us to believe that you have been resorting to these cruel methods for no less than forty years."

One of the committee members gasped, and several shook their heads in disgust. Duram allowed for this tactical pause so that the weight of her wrongs could be absorbed. Of course, if any of them knew the real truth, half of them would be on the floor unconscious with shock. Torture? She recalls open assassinations which she blamed on _mortal injury beyond the scope of Healing._ Drawing a breath, Duram continued…

"We have over five hundred recorded affidavits from people you have supposedly Healed. All of them share the same disturbing tale... after suffering horrendous injuries which no Restorer could Heal, the great Nemene sedai was called to aid those whom no one could help. All were saved of course, and were so elated at their fortune, that none of them cared to bring up the fact that they had never felt pain to such a degree while being Healed."

Duram crossed the floor and peered out of one of the great windows overlooking Paaren Disen. A court was his theatre, and this was where he was at his greatest. Still looking at the vast city covered in the midday sun, he continued, almost as if talking to himself.

"You covered your tracks well Nemene. Every time a patient asked another Aes Sedai why your Healing was so painful, they were told that the wounds were what caused the pain, and not the Healing. It seems clear to me now that other Restorers could easily have discovered an anomaly if they had listened to the complainants properly."

Nemene glanced at Roedran, who suddenly started to look at his hands which were resting on the table. Several other Aes Sedai looked abashed too. Relying on Aes Sedai vanity and haste had been one of her key tactics in hiding her crimes. Duram turned from the window and started walking around her in circles, his hands clasped behind his back, his piercing gaze staring at her statuesque form.

"… and you did well to hide your crimes. You only tortured one in every four patients at best, and usually only those who wouldn't complain, normal citizens for instance. Like all criminals, you became arrogant and careless. You tortured those who had been severely injured and Healed before, and they recognized the contrast. Several of these citizens pushed on with their complaints, and were key factors in discovering your ways. Then of course, you decided to try out your hobby on patients at the Collam Daan Academic Institute, which has complex Power detecting ter'angreal. Did you really think that reversing your torture flow would hide the crime at the world's most prestigious medical academy? … And finally, while Healing Mrs Opien last week, you took the most short-sighted step of all… you didn't even bother to reverse that lovely flow of Fire and Spirit. An entire audience of Aes Sedai witnessed this weave as it stimulated Mrs Opien's pain centers, including the First Restorer who linked with his wife so that he could see for himself. And now, one year after I was asked to compile a case against you, here we are. Faced with an insurmountable mountain of evidence against you, you have the opportunity to defend yourself against these four-hundred and seventy-seven cases of One Power transgression, first degree. The floor is yours."

He walked over to this original position where she had first seen him. She could see why he was known to be a renowned advocate. She herself was impressed, and that was no small feat. Amusingly, she thought she should have hired him herself, but alas, the cockroaches in the Hall beat her to it. Standing, she walked to the side of her high-backed chair, and rested her right arm over the crest, with her left hand resting on her waist. She decided that she should appear relaxed while she delivered her final statement. They wouldn't be able to reconcile the contrast.

"I see you have all the files at hand, in case I decide to question them Duram? No matter, I admit to having performed all these deeds. I don't even feel guilty. In fact, I can think of few times in my life when I have been happier."

Gasps and pale faces greeted her rebuttal. In their wildest dreams, they hadn't expected her to actually admit to these crimes, and even worse, confess to actually reveling in them. They had spent over a year building up a powerful case against her, surely expecting an aggressive retaliation in an attempt to clear her name. Lillith Tarasin pursed her lips and sprang from her chair, her anger overriding her apparently extreme old age.

"You vile cur! You dare stand here and flaunt these atrocities before us? In over seven centuries I have never seen the like. You openly spit on the name of Aes Sedai and smile while doing it!"

Nemene met her livid glare with deathly dark one of her own, and the aged woman half-collapsed into her chair. "I do spit on the name of Aes Sedai. I loathe it, as I loathe you all. You're an organization of hypocrites and sycophants, who favour the common street-urchin over the true masters of destiny, such as myself. What truly disgusts me, is that despite taking over a year to build up a case against me, you managed to catch less than a third of my trophies. Granted, some of them can't express their opinions any more, but you should at least have built up a decent list. Ah well… I suppose I'll have to cherish their memories myself."

She finished with a wide smile which didn't touch her eyes. Her audience was even more shocked than before, their opinions muted to despair. Their eyes were open as wide as they could, as if they couldn't believe that she was actually part of the same order as them, or perhaps if an imposter was standing in the true Nemene's place. Fools. The real mask had been removed for the first time. Duram's reaction aroused curiosity in her. Rather than acting like a terrorized child, he was rubbing his chin and looking at her in a considering manner, as if seeing her for the first time. Roedran was attempting to speak, but his lips moved in a repetitive and nervous manner, occasionally freeing a small croak. She half expected him to burst into tears and flee the room wailing. After an interminably long silence, he grasped the table in front of himself and pulled himself to his feet – the table offering more support than he was willing to admit. He looked at her, pain filling his eyes, as if her revelation had scythed through all his defenses and wounded his naïve heart for the first time in all his long years.

"I move to pass judgment on this Aes Sedai. Due to the fact that Nemene is a Restorer, I would like to have her cast out as a Sem'ragh. Who stands for this sentence?"

The Aes Sedai slowly rose and joined a standing Roedran. All thirteen faced her with grim and angered faces. It was done. Every year an Aes Sedai or two were disbanded from the order for various levels of transgression, and once a decade or so an Aes Sedai was actually imprisoned or even severed. However, to be named as a Sem'ragh was a rare disgrace. It literally meant _breaker of the body_, and it was the highest form of slander against those with the Healing Talent. _ Nemene_ was only aware of two Sem'rhag dishonors in the past millennium – and both were Restorers who had lost their minds and went on random killing sprees. It dawned on her that she might be the first lucid Sem'rhag in an Age. Slowly the Aes Sedai took their seats, but Roedran remained standing.

"It is thus agreed and voted. Nemene Damendar Boann, thirteen of your peers have found you guilty on all counts of transgression with the One Power, first degree. As such you are named as a Sem'rhag, forever to live in disgrace and cast out of the Aes Sedai order. Your sentence shall follow the Ammendment of Duplicity, set out by Lews Therin Telamon. As such you are presented with two choices to accompany your disgrace. Your first choice is to be severed from the True Source and denied the gift of touching saidar again. Or you may choose to be bound with an Oregan Rod, to never use the Power for violence, and to never know your pleasures again. As you well know the rod will mark you with an ageless face which will advertise your wrongs to the general public, as well as shortening the extended lifespan which those who channel the One Power obtain. You have twenty four hours to decide, at which point a group of Aes Sedai will approach you at your residence for your decision. Lews Therin himself is closely following this trial, Sem'rhag din Damendar, so don't waste time deciding. Now as for those other, minor transgressions …"

This trial had run just as she had expected, although leaving as a Sem'rhag was a bonus even she couldn't have anticipated. She wasn't about to stand around and waste her time with small misdemeanors such as ignoring her missions over the past week. Leaving them with a wide smile, she abruptly turned on her heel and walked towards the doors and briefly channeled Air to open them.

"We're not finished with you, Nemene!" Roedran almost screamed.

Abruptly the doors swung closed loudly, and Nemene guessed that Roedran was using his puny powers to try and stop her. Without a thought, she drew a little more deeply on saidar and wove Spirit, Water and Air and felt the flows of saidin snap as her weave sliced through them. The doors opened again and she looked over her shoulder with a cold disposition. Roedran, standing breathless against the wall with wide eyes had no doubt never expected her to slice his flows to leave the room, and he had probably been an apprentice when he had last felt the backlash of a severed flow.

"Do you really think you can stop me, Roedran?" she said preemptively while still maintaining her steady pace towards the elevators. The glow of saidar appeared around a few of the women seated at the table, but Nemene released the Power, and watched with coy amusement as the glow vanished around them too. Stepping into the elevator, she could hear them arguing among themselves about some inane topic, and she was relieved when the doors closed. Pressing the button for the ground floor, she was truly startled to discover that she was not alone in the elevator. Duram Laddel Cham was standing beside her, still facing the doors. She hated his calm exterior, probably because it was too similar to her own. Angrily she rounded on him.

"What do you want, Duram? Get out of the elevator! I have no desire to speak with a worm like you. I am a Sem'rhag … so don't you dare think you know what I am capable of."

Appraising her with a nod of his head and a half-smile, he spoke in soft and almost amused tones. "That's what I want to talk to you about, Nemene. You are no doubt caught in a dilemma regarding your future. You want revenge, but you don't know how to obtain it without being skinned alive." He finished with an evil twinkle in his eyes.

"If this is some sort of trap to get me to confess to further crimes, then erase it from your mind. I don't care if you've covered this elevator in listening wards, those secrets which you haven't ferreted out are mine, and if you…"

"I'm not interested in your history, Nemene, or perhaps that is not totally true," he continued. "I work for … someone… who would pay dearly for your allegiance. I'm not talking about money, which you do not lack, but rewards which mortal men and women can't even fathom. He can also aid you in obtaining revenge against all those who have ever crossed you. He is gradually building up an array of generals to wield his power. I marked you as a potential over a year ago, and I did my best to have you expelled from the Aes Sedai. One day you will thank me for it, because one day – and a day not too far in the future, mind you – when you are among the greatest and most feared leaders in the world, you will remember how trivial this moment was. I offer you the chance to gain revenge on your enemies, and to hone your skills into an art never seen before in this Age, to become as great as your dreams have suggested. A new world power is arising, and if you wish to know the answers as to why the world is becoming like it is, and exactly what happened at the Collam Daan a few years ago, then you should consider swearing fealty to my master. Here are the Travelling co-ordinates to my residence in the city where I will be staying until tomorrow afternoon. I eagerly await your arrival. Remember, only he can offer you true greatness, and in a few years from now, believe me when I say you will want to be on his side of the fence."

Nemene listened indifferently but inside she was bursting with curiosity as she took the card from him. She watched him walk away and start a conversation with another white-haired man, probably a friend in the Hall. She thought Duram had come to torment her with his victory, but instead he had offered her the chance to join an organization which was surely illegal in some way, and to whom he was surely party to. She would seriously consider his offer, if only out of interest, but first she would need to establish the 'end' of her previous life, and exclude a trap by Duram to snare her in some scandal. Rolling her eyes, she exited the building.

"_Damendar, Nemene honorific Boann. Access to all levels revoked."_

Very efficient of you, Roedran. She walked to the Travelling ground and spun a gateway back to her penthouse in the Heron district. Four days ago she had ordered her bookkeeper to move all her assets to her unnamed offshore accounts. They could take her titles, but she would be burned alive before she allowed them to take her fortune too. Exiting the gateway, she laughed – and carried on laughing until she was weeping from amusement. Perhaps she could _finally_ live her life as she had always wanted to … free of the rules and regulations set down by the Aes Sedai. She was free! Walking down the very long main passage, she heard footsteps on the opposite side. Frowning, she wondered who was walking around in her house, and was surprised to see Sashelle appear, a bright smile spread across her face and obviously dressed in her best attire. Of course … she had told the girl to come by her house today for some instruction in Healing and the Power. She hated all Aes Sedai, and therefore she hated the girl too. They wanted a Sem'rhag … she would give them one who would set a legendary status in the Hall's archives.

Letting the Power flood into her, she instantly wove a shield of Spirit with terrible precision and purpose, and sent it flying with awesome strength towards the young girl. Sashelle's eyes had only an instant to widen before she was hit by the avalanche of saidar. With a terrific scream, the girl flew five paces off her feet and landed dazed and moaning on her back. She was severed, her fragile connection to the Source destroyed forever. Helping herself onto all fours the girl tried to get up, but was whimpering in shock. Nemene gave her no chance and struck out with a thick flow of Fire and watched in satisfaction as flames burst from every pore on the girl's body. The girl let out one shriek which contained such an indescribable amount of agony and despair, that Nemene was almost overcome with ecstasy. At the same time she was consumed with hatred and fury and she started running down the passage towards the girl.

"Don't you dare die! I'm not finished with you Aes Sedai! Do you hear me! You will feel pain like no one has ever felt before!..." She stopped short and realized that she shouting at a pile of char and ashes. If she was shouting at human remains, perhaps she was losing her mind. No, she was upset and no wonder. She had been stripped of everything, and in favour of belligerent citizens who couldn't accept a little extra as part of a tribute to the great Nemene sedai. They would pay, all of them.

Suddenly footsteps emanated from the passage to the left and she hastily stepped back as a very good looking young man came running towards her. Dressed in citizen's attire, his face was covered with anxiety.

"Sashelle? … I heard a scream. Sashelle?" His eyes settled to a diamond pendant lying among the ashes and he let out a scream and fell to his knees. "No! Oh no… Sashelle! What did she do to you?"

Nemene let out a chuckle. The fool had brought her boyfriend along, and it was an extra treat that he was a normal citizen. Without any way to defend himself, she could refine her pain weaves on him for hours before she killed him. Before she could get out a second laugh, she was staggering up from a wall thirty paces back. Her vision slightly hazy, she could taste the blood emanating from her cut lower lip. The boy could channel, and for some reason he was in normal citizen's attire! His sprinted towards her, tears streaming down his reddened and enraged eyes, a snarl of unsurpassable hatred etched on his face. She then suffered her second shock in as many seconds. He was holding a small green statue in his right hand shaped like a child holding a shield in front of his face. He had an angreal! It implied very great wealth for such a young man to own an angreal … he might have received it from his wealthy father for his twenty-first birthday. Quickly, she drew on saidar until small needles of pain started pricking her temples. That was it … that was the absolute maximum amount of saidar she could hold unaided. She could not stand against a channeler with an angreal for long, and she still felt dazed after being launched across the room. She would need to be swift and lethal.

Anticipating another attack she struck out with six flows of Spirit, Water and Air covering all directions and felt reassured as two of the six sliced through flows which were presumably on an intercept course to kill her. The boy grunted as his flows rebounded but even then the ground roared under her feet as he tried to erupt the very foundations below her. Sending all her strength to slice that Earth weave, she could feel the exertion her efforts underwent as it sliced that thick cord of saidin. She then realized that he was far stronger than her with his angreal. She _must_ finish it now, or die herself. This time the recoil knocked him right off his feet, and while lying there she sent out her most devastating weave of Fire and Spirit. The weave struck, its mercy fading to nothing. The boy convulsed and screamed the agony of a thousand deaths combined. Never before had she heard such a guttural, more desperate expression of pain – as if his whole soul was screaming for relief. Only a second, and it was over. There he lay, his staring eyes and still wide-open mouth facing the ceiling.

Staggering towards him, she picked up his angreal and placed it in her pocket. Wiping her bloodied lip on her silk shawl, she leaned against the wall for a moment and gathered herself. If she weakened that weave considerably, and laid it only on the thalamus, she thought she could prolong the pain exponentially. She practiced her weaves on the unresponsive corpse, and sighed when a predictable silence greeted her efforts. Eventually she found herself toying with his body … even bouncing it around the room and experimenting with other weaves related to physical affliction.

A few hours later, her curiosity finally sated, Nemene glided up to her room. There she sat cross-legged on the polished wooden floor staring vacantly in front of her. Her breathing was heavy, and every moment she sat there she poured all her hatred and vengeance into her soul. She had spent so many years living behind a mask of sincerity, that she had almost totally suppressed her true inner desires. She embraced saidar and propagated a weave of Fire and Water which covered every wall and the roof in flames without scorching even the most sensitive surface. If she was going to reveal her dark soul in all of its glory, she would need a stimulating environment. She was eager to realize all those hidden dire emotions which she believed defined her, but at the same time she was afraid that if she released them too hastily, she would either leave her room on a murderous rampage or insane – both of which were unacceptable outcomes.

Eventually, when the night had grown deep, she released the illusion covering her room and walked to her vast wardrobe. Pulling the doors right off their hinges using flows of Air, she selected a few choice garments and placed them on her bed. Without hesitation she spun to face the wardrobe and channeled Fire and Earth and watched as her priceless collection of clothing vanished into a heap of dust which scattered to the floor. Smiling, she turned to her bed again and examined her spared garments. Passing a soft hand over the silky fabrics, she laughed softly. All of them were as black as the darkest midnight. Never again would she cover her body in a colour which didn't express her soul. Her enemies would feel her power from the moment they set their eyes on her. If they wanted to name her as a Sem'rhag, then surely she should rise up and meet their expectations as a Dark Healer?

That night, Nemene fell into a deep sleep. On two occasions her restless mind allowed her to fall into Tel'aran'rhiod, and it took a fervent effort on her part to prevent her from drifting for a third time. The next day she awoke well into the morning. After following her daily routines, she dressed herself in a beautiful black silk dress she had purchased in Qal over one hundred years previously. After tying the final banestone button riding up her back, she donned a heavy gold necklace and then added a twisted gold bracelet to her right hand. The necklace was for decoration – even a Sem'rhag should look her best – but the bracelet was one of her personal angreal. She owned seven angreal and one weak sa'angreal, but they were all in various bank vaults around the world – and only this angreal was within reach. One of her principle tasks would be to try and retrieve that sa'angreal before the Hall froze her assets of the Power.

Soon afterwards her intercom chimed alerting her to the presence of a guest. The delegation from the Hall was right on time. She pressed the button which opened the gates to her estate, and watched on the viewfinder as the delegation began their journey up her lengthy driveway. She could see Corelle leading the group followed by Lillith aided by a walking stick. She counted eleven other Aes Sedai of middling ages – six men and five women. Thirteen… the fools expected her choice to be severing from the True Source. They obviously didn't know her very well if they thought she would willingly sacrifice her precious powers.

She had two minutes at the most before they reached the front door. Filling herself with saidar she knelt on the floor and began weaving, even drawing on a portion of her angreal to aid in the task. From the onset she had reversed her flows – the Aes Sedai might become suspicious if they felt large amounts of saidar being woven from inside the house. She split her flows six ways and started weaving Fire and Earth as quickly as she could into spherical arrangements of various sizes. As soon as the six nets were as densely woven as possible, she merged the globes into one interlaced globe with six levels of nets within. Tying off the globe she started on the next set of six … and repeated this feat another eight times until she had ten multilayered spheres before her. Using Air and Fire she merged the spheres into one large weave, and altered it slightly to give it ward-like qualities. Tying it off, she checked to make sure it remained inverted. One last reversed flow of Spirit tied the ward to the front door. At that moment she heard a knock on the front door, and immediately wove an inverted gateway to place her five miles from her house on a well known hilltop. Diving through, Nemene released the Source and the gateway vanished.

Clambering up on the hilltop she looked towards her distant house. She had been watching for no more than a few seconds when an almighty explosion threw her from her feet. Grunting as she hit the ground, she rolled to her side and looked again to the north. A fireball at least a five hundred paces across was rising from where her estate used to be, a colossal crater already visible where at least half of the Heron district had once been. Her plan had worked. Even had they been in a linked circle, they would not have been strong enough to survive that blast. She was very proud of her weave, and she doubted Lews Therin could have woven it faster if he had tried himself. The delegation was dead, caught up in the tragic suicide of Nemene Damendar Boann, who could not bear the guilt of having fallen so far. At least, that is what the headlines would say on the evening news.

Standing, she spared one last glance for her devastated home, an enormous cloud of black smoke rising from the site accompanied by a chorus of screams from surrounding neighborhoods, and emergency sho-wings in their dozens racing over her head to the ruined area. Luckily, she knew this mountaintop well, and quickly reading the details on the small gold-embossed card in her pocket, she wove a gateway to Duram's apartments in the city centre. Stepping through, she released the gateway and was greeted by Duram, sprawled lazily in a designer chair across the room.

"Nemene. I'm so glad you responded to my offer. What happened to your lip? No, never mind. I suppose you're responsible for that commotion in the Heron district?"

She looked around the room indifferently, but had already started sweeping the room with the Power to detect any wardings. Strangely, she found none. "Duram. Yes, I decided to add a third possible response to the Hall's ultimatum."

Duram threw back his head and laughed. "You will do well, very well indeed in your new vocation. Your attire suits you well too. In time, you will cherish these decisions. So, how are you going to thank me for introducing you to this new venture?"

Snorting derisively, Nemene took a seat on a nearby lounger. "I assure you, I will never thank you on your terms – but on mine. You are bold to ask for thanks in light of the fact that you have produced on none of your promises. However, as a gesture of good faith, you can have this little green trinket. I'm sure you know what it is. I went to great lengths to obtain it, so don't underestimate its value."

Duram sprang from his chair and snatched it from her hand, his eyes hungry for an item so few Aes Sedai could affort. "An angreal. This more than covers the costs, as well as the risk I took trying to recruit you." His voice was filled with awe as he toyed with the thing, no doubt already drawing on it for the sheer childish pleasure. Suddenly his eyes took on a dangerous gleam. "One day you will regret ever giving me any advantage over you Nemene."

She met his stare with one equally as potent. She started toying with her bracelet, until he finally noticed and the smirk slipped from his face. "That is one mistake all my enemies made, Duram. They thought they had an advantage over me. Try not to make the same mistake. You wouldn't want to share their fates. Now… why do you want to see me succeed while at the same time try to bring me down?"

He had grown more serious since she started speaking, almost as if he was reflecting on a lesson he had just learned. "My master encourages the most severe form of competition. In time he will open his doors to all who wish to serve him, but his chief concern lies with those who will represent his greatest regents in this world. For this reason, he demands that those he chooses are the greatest and strongest. I was intrigued by you Nemene. You are strong in almost every area which matters, including the darker ones. I have no doubt that your name will go down in history as one of the great leaders of our time. As you become greater, so will I be revered as the one who caused your downfall. You surely believe that you cannot be surpassed in any area, but there are already others of us who share this similar allegiance. Trust me, you won't believe how powerful your peers are – and most of them haven't even spread their wings yet."

Nemene had been listening eagerly, her chest bursting with excitement. She couldn't wait to hold dominance among these supposedly masterful colleagues of hers. If any of them were like Duram, it would be a real challenge to reach the top of that ladder. She felt a feeling of exhilaration which she had not felt for years.

"As you say Duram. I look forward to meeting some of them. In time, we shall see what comes of this new order. I am ready. Take me to my new master."

Immediately a gateway opened to the left of Duram, widening into a hole five paces by three. She couldn't see what lay beyond the gateway, but the acidic stench and dark clouds flowing past the gateway confirmed her initial suspicions that this was hardly a lowly criminal organization she was joining. Standing on the other side, Duram was smiling at her and holding out his right hand. Stepping through she ignored his offer to help her through. The gateway closed and Duram started walking hastily down a scorched path surrounded by a dark mist. The air was dry and fiery, and she would have started sweating if not for her training. She glided smoothly to catch up with Duram, and because she was as tall as him, this didn't prove difficult. What she saw ahead made her mouth drop open in astonishment. She smiled, and for the first time in her life, she felt that this was where she was meant to be.


	3. Chapter 3

This is the final part of my story about Nemene, and her transformation during the Collapse. Thank you for all the comments and feedback, I really appreciate them. I'm going to probably start writing about the other Forsaken too, because it is an area which interests me.

_**The Legend that was Nemene – Part 3**_

It had been six weeks since Nemene had arrived at what was once Hesiego Island – the world's most popular holiday destination. The island was a tropical paradise set in lush greenery with soft, sandy beaches. Its temperate weather was warm and comforting, and the turquoise seas were almost fictional in their perfection. There were hotels which decorated the horizon ranging from the plain to the spectacularly luxurious. She had spent several vacations on the island, basking in what could only be described as the most extravagant accommodation in the world.

Staring out of the stone window, Nemene coolly surveyed what could only be described as a radical transformation. On the same day that the Collam Daan in M'Jinn had been destroyed by an uncontrolled science experiment, the island had been leveled by a force which the rare survivor described as a wave of darkness. It had been ascribed to Pattern aftershocks which frequently followed major Power events. Whatever the cause, she couldn't believe what she was looking at when Duram brought her here.

The barren landscape was thick with a parched acidic stench, the air so hot it burned with every breath she took. The land was a charred wasteland, with no evidence of any plant or animal life. Near to the centre of the island rose a colossal black mountain, its peak rising thousands of feet into the air and emitting a vast volume of black smoke and ash. The ash rose to a dizzying height before it settled into a dark cloud which filtered the sunlight down to an eerie glow. The sides of the mountain contained several large arched entrances, the glow of the mountain's burning heart reflected from within. The soft beaches had been replaced with dark rock as sharp as glass, and the sea was as black as midnight as far as the eye could see.

Nemene was vexed. She expected to attend a conference where these new colleagues of hers would welcome her to their organization. Idly, she thought back to that day six weeks ago. They had walked in silence towards a huge gray fortress which lay a few miles from the great peak of Shayol Ghul, as it had been named. Duram had escorted her to her chambers, which lay high up on the west side of the building. Her chambers were spacious and ornately decorated with the finest livery. She couldn't help but feel disconcerted that her arrival had been seen as predictable, or worse … inevitable. He had politely informed her that none of the other members of their alliance were present on the island, but that their absence was only temporary due to _other engagements_. Her instructions had been clear … she was to set-up a hospital on the island which would be dedicated to the interrogation of their enemies. The hospital would be built to any specifications she wished, but research focusing on the improvement of her Talents would be an absolute requirement.

Duram had greeted her curtly, his smile still flickering to his newly-acquired angreal as he made his way to the elevator. Immediately Nemene searched for any wards placed in her rooms, and was scandalized to find fourteen culprit webs laced around the immediate area. Unravelling them had taken most of the day, and she had spent some time thereafter weaving her own wards to prevent any unwanted guests from entering her domain. Climate modulators were part of the décor in her chambers, but she could sense their exhaustion in their efforts to convert the hellish environment into a pleasant internal ambience. Embracing saidar, she wove Water, Air and Fire and placed the nets over the open windows and watched with satisfaction as the passing harsh gases were filtered into cool breathable air.

It had taken her two weeks to formulate the design for her new hospital. The hospital was deep black on the outside, but its interior was as white as Satellian silk. Although black remained her colour of choice, she had been accustomed to working in white cueran hospitals for most of her life, and grudgingly she had to admit, that old habits were difficult to shake off. That was where the similarities ended, however. The hospital was a Restorer's worst nightmare … its rooms designed to harvest the most primitive insecurities in every patient, such as solitude, hopelessness, despair and fear. Every one of the chambers was set with a sterile ambience and designed for individual patients, with a glass-windowed gallery above for her to monitor the progress of her efforts, or perhaps for interested guests to marvel at her accomplishments. It was of dire importance to her that every patient could exact her individual attention, and so they would … up to three hundred of them at a time. Among other things, she had included the plans for research laboratories, anatomy research areas with facilities for both living and deceased patients, a conference room to present her findings to curious parties, and a small morgue which she did not intend to use. Death was an escape which she would not accept. A few days after she had submitted her designs to the required attendant, she had awoken one morning to see the building in its completed state a few miles east of the fortress. It had obviously been constructed with the Power, but she sensed no saidar residues in the surrounding area, which implied a solitary male effort of very great strength and dexterity in Earth.

For the weeks thereafter she had directed the administration of her hospital. Granted, there were no patients yet, but that did not exclude the need to maintain her prestigious workplace. There were over one thousand attendants who served the hospital and they fulfilled all the requirements needed to run a large health facility. Oddly, none of these servants or any of the five hundred staff in the fortress could channel, or even had the potential to learn. That was a paradox which she had encountered within a few days of exploring the area. It could mean only thing - channelers were being actively excluded, for the time being at least. They called themselves the _Friends of the Dark_, which seemed diabolical yet impotent, in her opinion. What darkness did they pretend to serve, anyway?

She had not seen Duram again since that last encounter six weeks previously, but she had received an elec-mail this morning on her communications array, requesting her presence in the main foyer as soon as possible. This was a rare communication, from anyone really, and it was small wonder that she hastily made her way to the elevator. Her footsteps echoed on the gleaming marble floors, and after a brief trip in the elevator, she strode into the foyer. A tall man in black attire with very dark combed-back hair was facing away from her. He held his hands behind his back and was examining a gold bust of Lews Therin which had been awkwardly placed here. She hated all Aes Sedai, but the Dragon could give pause to anyone, and if there was to be a statue of anyone, even in a criminal organization, then his would probably be the most worthy. The tall man surely heard her approach, but he seemed mesmerized by the statue and almost as immobile. Stopping short, she sniffed impatiently, but it had no effect.

"I am Nemene Damendar Boann. I received an elec-mail to meet someone here. Are you that person?" she asked crisply. The man continued staring at the statue, but her instincts told her that he was suddenly smiling. He was trying her patience, which was almost imperturbable, but her mercy was far more limited than most.

"I will ask one more time. Are you the man who sent me this elec-mail?"

Once again the man made no response, and as she opened her mouth to inform him of his dire error in crossing paths with her, he slowly turned around. Before she could stop herself, her jaw dropped and she stood gaping. His name was Elan Morin Tedronai, and he was one of the great philosophers of the Age. Nemene was considered an intellectual by most of her peers, but after purchasing his last bestseller, the _Absence of Meaning_, she could barely comprehend the underlying message of the first chapter and had thrown the book away. Elan was an Aes Sedai of great repute, but he was an intensely private person who shared very little interest in fame. His lectures at universities around the world attracted enormous crowds, and he was a personal acquaintance of most world leaders. His mind was far too powerful for her to bend it to her will and answer her questions. This did not worry her, however, as answers would eventually come, even if that process felt infuriatingly slow. What did concern her was that his presence implied his allegiance to their organization. A revelation of this magnitude to the general public would cause an outcry which would rival any uprising seen in recorded years. His revocation of the Aes Sedai order would make her expulsion seem trivial. He was also famed for his enormous strength in the One Power. There were only eight registered category 1a channelers in the world, and Lews Therin and Elan Morin constituted two of them. It might explain the rapid construction of her hospital, but she would never ask him the question, no matter how much it irked her. Duram's warning about the strength of her allies suddenly rang true in the back of her head. She felt the desire to embrace the Source, but her efforts would shout her insecurities to him, and she resisted. It was not in her nature to feel insecure, but when the largest fish in the bowl was suddenly placed in a pond of equally large fish, then doubt was inevitable. There was indeed a smile on his face, but it slowly disappeared into a grim demeanor, the vestige of an analyst whose mind pierced those below him. He was a man who considered issues on several levels, and understood mysteries which few could begin to comprehend. He opened his mouth to speak, his lips almost twisting into a snarl when he spoke.

"You know who I am, Nemene. I'm glad we could convince you to see things our way. Refusal of our generous offer would mean death, either now or in the near future." His voice was filled with confidence and heat. Nemene maintained her cool serenity, which was never easy when one was in the company of such a powerful presence.

"As with all your allies, Elan, the welcome has been warm and receiving. As I said, I have pledged myself to your cause. Now, could we discuss why you hailed me?" He was a dangerous man to bait, but nobody threatened her, not even a man of his stature.

His piercing gaze continued to transfix upon her, but she didn't allow it to have any bearing on her composure. "We can. I have never been one for trivial talk anyway. I am here because my Master has felt it is time that you two become acquainted."

Nemene was surprised at this revelation, though she showed no sign of it. "You mean that there is someone who stands above you?" The leader of their alliance must be a powerful person indeed.

Elan barked a short, contemptuous laugh. "Did I not say so? Follow me." He turned away from her and she watched as a large gateway formed a pace in front of him. She sensed nothing, of course, but she had seen male gateways form before and this one seemed different … violent. He stepped through, and without pause she followed him. He had taken them to one of the openings in the mountainside. "Follow the path. He is waiting for you. Do not embrace the Source at any time, or your life will be forfeit." A strange warning, but she decided to not to risk it. He had probably warded the tunnel to perform some grotesquery if the Power was detected, for security's sake. She started down the passage maintaining a slow but confident pace without looking back, but she could feel his gaze following her. The passage was narrow but still large enough for her to easily make her way down to the heart of the mountain. The rock was as black as coal, and the razor-sharp rocks protruding from the roof of the tunnel glowed with a reflected red light. The silence was absolute, and not what she would expect from a raging volcano. As she neared the end of the tunnel, her instincts warned her of impending danger, but she remembered Elan's warning and kept the alluring glow of the Source at bay. Leaving the tunnel, she looked in awe at the massive chamber she had entered. The rock path she walked gave off steam and she could feel the heat of the sea of lava floating ten paces below her. The heated gases rose up, causing her hair and cloak to gust upwards, after which they exited through the mouth of the mountain which opened a mile above her, its huge eye opening to a view of the dark sky above. Pacing around the rock face, she spared brief glances for the superheated pool below her. She stood on an isolated cliff face, staring down onto a sea of molten rock. This place was deserted. Suddenly a voice rang from the pool, from everywhere at once. Its sheer power almost crushed her senses into unconsciousness. Falling to her knees, she screamed in terror and in awe. Almost immediately her dress started smoldering, and the skin on her knees blistered away, yet she dared not rise from her submissive posture, even if she could summon the courage to. She had not felt fear for many decades, yet terror filtered into her very being, but at the same time ecstasy. She tried to convince herself that someone had amplified their voice using the One Power, but she knew it was not true. The voice itself contained power, not just volume.

"NEMENE," the voice thundered, the sound of a thousand horns in harmony, yet chaos incarnate, and raw malice such as she had never experienced before. After opening her mouth for the third time, and wiping the tears streaming down her face, she managed a faint reply. "Yes, master. I am here to serve you."

"THAT IS YOUR DESTINY, AS IS THE DESTINY OF EVERY SOUL WHICH INHABITS THIS WORLD. ARE YOU MY CREATURE, NEMENE? WILL YOU SERVE …. SHAI'TAN?"

She assumed his true name was Shai'tan, because as soon as he said it she felt a surge in the mountain which she thought would break her body to dust. Whimpering, she knelt as low as she could, her face inches above the smoldering embers. She could feel her face heating, as the rocks released their energy upwards. She was perspiring heavily, a sure combination of terror and ambient heat. "I will serve you, Great Lord. My soul is yours to command." As soon as these words left her mouth she was lifted into the air and floated above the sea of molten rock. Screaming, she felt his hand – if it could be called that – inscribe his dark mark onto her soul. She felt a connection shoot into her soul, potent and powerful. Suddenly she became more aware of him. She could see dark cords grow from her limbs and body and stretch into infinity, pulsing with an inner black energy, before they vanished again. She could feel his presence. She could feel Elan's, and Duram's … and a few other weak presences many miles away. Her own feelings seemed to ignite into a furnace of unimaginable intensity, her hateful feelings magnified many times, her mercy reduced to untraceable levels. Floating back to the rock face, she felt him caress her with his strength – her singed clothes made anew, and her tear-streaked face returned to its former beauty. She knew she was tied to him now, and she was content.

"NOW YOU ARE MINE, FOREVER. YOU ARE MY CHOSEN. GO INTO THE WORLD AND DO MY WILL."

"It shall be so, Great Lord." Bowing deeply, Nemene turned and walked towards to the tunnel where she had arrived. She was still trying to reconcile these new feelings she was experiencing, as if she had touched saidar for the first time and had experienced the enhanced sensation it provided. This was different. She could feel dark pulses racing into her, almost from everywhere at once. She was aware of Shai'tan's will, aware of her inner dark desires more acutely than ever before, aware of her peers and other dark beings on the island. The One Power provided a feeling of security and the promise of power, but this new energy flowing in her made her almost wildly ambitious and confident. She was so immersed in her feelings that she hadn't paid cognizance to her journey through the tunnel. Amazingly, the walls of the tunnel cleared her head and sides by three paces or more, and the sharp tooth-like projections from the roof had disappeared altogether. If the tunnel could become larger, it could surely become smaller too, which would be well to remember. Elan was waiting for her near to the exit of the cave, and Duram had joined him. Both men looked grave, but they appeared to be looking at her with a new found respect. Duram took a step forward, but Elan stopped him and moved himself. Duram grimaced, but wisely decided not object. Speaking, his voice was as serious as ever, but it had moved from analytical to conversational, if a man such as he could ever be said to be that.

"Now you are one of us. You are Chosen. Not merely chosen to serve him, but Chosen to rule the world in his name, until the end of time."

She had regained her wits, and she didn't feel ashamed for her loss of composure in the Great Lord's presence. If these two had done better under the circumstances, she would burn herself out. "Indeed, now I am Chosen, Elan. Tell me more about the Great Lord."

Smirking, he turned on his heel and started the spiraling descent down the mountainside, with Duram falling at his side. "Walk with us Nemene," he said, but she was already flanking him on the left. He continued as if he expected no less, probably assuming that her subservience was due to rank, when in actual fact she was merely using him for information.

"Everyone knows about the Pattern, and the Creator, but how many really believe its true meaning? The Creator designed the Wheel and used the Source to drive it, but at the same time he performed another feat. He defeated our Master and sealed him outside of Time, in a prison of unbreakable strength, or so we thought. When the scientists at the Collam Daan detected a power flux a few years ago, they inadvertently drilled into his prison and allowed him to touch the Pattern. It was this flux which destroyed the Sharom, and it was his presence which has stemmed the unrest in our world. It is his power, and his influence on the Pattern which will grant us immortality. None of the Chosen will ever die, unless by his hand, or in the process of dominating one another."

Nemene was thirsty for revelations, and she drunk his tale deeply. "I see. So our master is now free. How is it that we can serve him?"

Elan grunted and continued. "He is not free. His prison has been disrupted, and he can touch this world, but he cannot enter the Pattern yet. Our work as Chosen is to aid him to total freedom. When that is done he will break the Wheel and remake Time and Creation in his own image. It is at that time that he can challenge the Creator once more, with us as his generals by his side. As a reward for our efforts, our vows to him promise us immortality, governance and powers which no Aes Sedai has ever dreamed of."

Nemene listened once again. Immortality? That reward would be worth more than any fortune or any power. Aes Sedai lived for centuries, but death and aging came to them as surely as it came to every other living organism. Smiling, she addressed them. "With us at his side, there is no one who can challenge him. Victory is only a matter of time. Surely you don't think that even the greatest of our peers together could ever stand against his strength?"

Elan growled, and Duram looked somber. "There is only one who can stand against him. The Creator knew that the Dark Lord would make a move against him. He set his regent on earth, a divine soldier of the Light made flesh to challenge the Great Lord and his dark generals. Only he can defeat us. Only he has the strength to break us and even our Master in Ages past, and reseal his prison. In Ages past he has done this, and defeated us." His face contorted into a anger, his antagonism for this man plainly etched on his face.

Nemene barely managed to remove the unease and incredulity from her voice. "Who is he, Elan? We must kill him. If he is the prime threat to us, then we should strike without hesitation. Surely he couldn't stands against the three of us combined!"

Elan stared ahead, as if he had considered this in days gone by, but quickly shook his head and spoke. "No. He is greater than any in this world. You know of whom I speak. Lews Therin. It is no co-incidence that he is being called the Dragon. It has been the name of the Creator's Champion since the dawn of Time, and it reappears and brands him in the days before the final battle between the Light and the Shadow. The Pattern protects him, and nurtures him. One day he will fall, as will all who challenge the Great Lord, but until the time is right, I believe his circumstances will allow him to destroy any who stand against him, and in any combination."

Nemene slowly exhaled. Of all the Aes Sedai to stand against their power, Lews Therin was probably the worst they could have asked for. The man was an insurmountable obstacle, and if destiny really did protect him from harm, then what chance did they have? She would need to place her trust in her instincts and the Great Lord. Until the war was unleashed, she would need to dedicate her skills to interrogation and combat, and hone them to lethal proportions. Duram had openly threatened her once, and if Elan unleashed his strength against her in a move for power, what chance would she have with her blunted abilities? The three walked on in silence, as if the lecture had sprouted concern in all their minds. At the foot of the mountain Elan turned towards them. "Duram, escort her back to the Fortress. The others will return later, Nemene. Feel free to acquaint yourself with them at your leisure. I shall return soon, and with prisoners for interrogation. Make sure the relevant facilities are ready." Before Duram could respond, that violent gateway appeared behind Elan with a serene green park in the background, possibly the Utupau Gardens in Jalanda. Duram;s breath caught and his face paled, but before she could look in his direction, she noticed two black flecks race across Elan's eyes. She was a master of the body, but no disease she knew of caused that type of ocular reaction. She nearly offered to Delve him, but he moved briskly through the gateway before the gateway vanished. This time she did question Duram.

"What were you gaping at, and why are you still so pale? Haven't you ever seen a gateway before? Or does he use a new weave?"

His face flushed and he turned on her angrily. "Don't you ever treat me like a fool, Nemene. Do you hear me? I'll kill you if you make that mistake, no matter how new you are to the Shadow. Your comments shout ignorance, and I only wish the others were here to laugh at your folly." A gateway appeared behind him, rotating into a large hole five paces by three… excessively big, but an obvious allusion to his strength, to provide that extra metallic clang to his threat. Stepping through, they started walking within the echoing passages within the Fortress, towards the elevator which would take them to their rooms. They walked in silence for a while, his jaw set angrily and his cheeks reddened with anger, or possibly embarrassment. As if from nowhere, he started speaking again. "If you must know, Nemene, he is using the Great Lord's own Power to Travel. We call it the True Power, and it is very different to the One Power. Men and women alike can use it, but you cannot detect it in someone who channels it. Now that you are connected to the Great Lord, you can channel it freely for the time being, but I warn you against it. It is a thousand fold more addictive than saidar or saidin, and its effects are corrosive and probably lethal. You saw his eyes. Who knows what will happen in a few months, or years if he survives? I haven't seen him channel saidin once in the months since he recruited me. He is a fool."

Nemene certainlyfelt the fool, but how could she be expected to anticipate the presence of another force besides the One Power? She could feel her connection to the True Power, even though she had not known what it was before. She felt a burning desire to reach out and touch the True Power, if only for a few moments. Duram wouldn't know, or so he claimed, but what if those strange flecks started bouncing around her eyes? No, now was not the time. Perhaps she would attempt to wield the Great Lord's power at some other stage. She had to remember Duram's warning though. It was unlikely he would avoid a new Power unless it really was harmful, but perhaps his reaction to Elan's gateway was a big act, in which case he could pass for a theatre performer from Paraal. As soon as they reached her rooms, he turned sharply to his right and continued down the passage to his own suite, his childish temperament still fighting his efforts to suppress it.

Walking into her room, she performed the usual check of her wards to see if anyone had decided to visit her that day. Alas, no flies for her web. Of course, hoping to snare someone could backfire, especially if the fly was someone like Elan. Chuckling softly, she mused their probable thoughts regarding her. No doubt they thought their strength vastly superior to hers, but she hadn't been the best in her field for nothing. She doubted they could duplicate half of what she could with the Power, or inflict a tenth of suffering she had already researched… well maybe Elan could, but she was certain that Duram was woefully deficient in that area. Duram was a typical man, trying to use brute force and strength to break through his infantile skill. She found that the most beautifully woven nets couldn't be broken by even the most colossal hand, and she was eager to prove it to them and exact her toll in retribution. That would come in time. If she truly was to be immortal, then she could wait for millennia for them to fall, and when that happened, they like all others, would be given to her.

That night, wearing her dark streith gown she sat on the soft meditation pad alongside her large bed. She had been waiting for this moment, and she could feel a bubble of anticipation and trepidation boiling up inside of her. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. The glow of the Source was so familiar that she thought it was trying to leap into her, but she held it at bay. Instead she reached out with her thoughts along the new conduit provided to her by the Great Lord. She could sense a darkness in that infinite distance, but a Power of huge proportions. Judging by Elan's actions, she decided that the best way to treat this new strength was to channel it with even more aggression than was required when channeling saidin. She was proficient in channeling saidin too, after all her years in leading mixed circles. Reaching for the blackened Source, she ripped it from its heart and pulled it into her. She gasped as it flowed into her, and suddenly she heard screaming in her ears, the world's suffering bursting into her mind. At first she thought it might be her that was screeching, but when she realized her mouth was shut, it dawned upon her that this was how the True Power felt. Where saidar provided solice and calm, the True Power provided hatred and dominion. She drew on it deeply and the screaming increased until she thought she wouldn't even hear if she herself joined that tortured lament. The black dots started to appear and raced faster and faster, and in greater number as she drew on the dark Source. Suddenly her temples started to pain and the sharp prickles on her scalp warned her that she was drawing her maximum, which disappointingly was not more than she could handle with the One Power. She tried to draw out a thread of Fire and tried to weave a simple fireball. It formed and floated in the air, and vanished before she released it properly. This new Power was more foreign than saidin, and would require much practice to master. Shaking her head, she released the True Power. She felt physically ill, and without warning she vomited on the carpet next to her. No practice, not with this horrid entity. She could understand the tactical value of such an undetectable energy, but she would never use it unless in the direst need. Despite the aftershocks of violent nausea and inner discontent, she felt a near maniacal desire to want to draw on it again. She resisted, and pulled in as much saidar as she could to try and negate the lust. Duram was correct, but she was glad she had discovered that for herself. It was unlikely that she would ever use it again, unless she really had no choice.

After cleaning the carpet with the Power, she moved to the drinks table and channeled flows of Air and Water and readied herself a beverage suitable to accompany a tranquil dusk. Floating the crystal chalice to her left hand, she wove one last small weave of Air to activate her communications array. Releasing the True Source, she lazed comfortably on her leather sofa and watched as the evening headlines were displayed across the large glass screen. Ilyena Sunhair had once again graced a major charity event in Paaren Disen. She was a foolish woman, spending her days helping those far beneath her, and those who would never return the favour in any way. What a short-sighted simpleton she must be, to place such value on those events. Nemene quickly touched the icon at the bottom-right of the screen which would take her to the next story. Kamarile Maradim Nindar had been implicated in another sex scandal. Apparently she had been caught leaving a Dillion International Hotel with yet another Prime Counselor, one of a myriad of conquests she had been involved in over the past year. It was unbelievable that a woman who was once considered chaste could make such a radical turnabout. Luckily Nemene could think of a few ways to explain this change, now that so much had been revealed to her. Flicking to the next story, Nemene looked at the curious headline "_Semirhage alive!"_ and started reading indifferently. Jerking up in her chair, she could almost not believe what her eyes were seeing.

_The disgraced Restorer, Nemene Damendar Boann is alive! Just weeks after her apparent suicide, the noted philosopher Elan Morin Tedronai submitted an affidavit to the Hall stating that he had spotted her sneaking around in the Utupau Gardens in Jalanda, but while tracking her it appeared she Travelled to yet another destination. Seekers were immediately informed to examine any residues to indicate her possible motives and targets. They have warned the public to remain vigilant and not to make any attempt to approach her if seen, as she is considered extremely dangerous. _

_It was widely speculated that Semirhage committed suicide approximately seven weeks ago by overdrawing on the True Source. Sixty-five Aes Sedai and seven-hundred-and-thirteen civilians were killed when a large portion of the Heron district was leveled by the culprit explosion. The distinguished Aes Sedai, Corelle Hachaman Sendar managed to miraculously survive the explosion by Travelling at the last moment to safety, but unfortunately the backlash of Semirhage's weave ruptured her gateway, and permanently severed her from the True Source. Despite all the Restorers efforts, she succumbed to severe depression ten days ago and took her own life. (Press here for details regarding Corelle Hachaman Sendar)._

_The Tamyrlin has personally charged Barid Bel Medar to head the committee to find Semirhage and bring her to justice. Semirhage's history as a noted Restorer…_

It took a moment for Nemene to let this article sink in. Rising from her chair she turned off the array, and started pacing aimlessly around her suite. She had gone to great lengths to hide her escape from the authorities, and in one act Elan Morin had revealed her and ruined all her efforts! Staring out the window, it suddenly dawned on her that Elan had already initiated the War against the world, and she started to relax and chuckle softly. It was surely part of his plan to sow dissent and panic into society and allow the seed to grow well before he actually initiated any direct conflict. He was profoundly intelligent, and after she had sworn allegiance to the Shadow, he wasted absolutely no time in weaving her into his intricate plans. What better way to create panic than to reveal that the killer Restorer Nemene Damendar was still loose and weaving her heinous plots? He would probably reveal his other allies with time, and when he finally proclaimed his devotion to Shai'tan, the world would plunge into the great War of the Age. Semirhage … what a peculiar name. The media had literally transferred the slander _Sem'rhag_ into a first-person title. Considering the lack of explanation surrounding the name, she assumed they had been using it for some time. Smiling to herself, she speculated on her affinity for the name. Semirhage. She would embrace the name, but she wondered if the media realized what they were letting the world in for by providing her with such a wonderful incentive? She would see to it that she honoured the name they had given her, and would ensure that it was maximized to legendary proportions. _She who breaks the body_ … she would find ways to break them, ways to make her previous atrocities seems like kindnesses.

Opening her wardrobe, she donned some of her best attire. Her long black silk dress clung tightly to her upper body, while the lower part swung loosely down to the ground. A silver paisley pattern covered the lower part of the rare designer dress, hinting to those around her that limitless financial abilities probably meant limitless abilities in other areas too. She tied her hair back with a continuous silver chain, and added a matching silver ring to her right ring finger. She hesitated as to whether she should add her angreal bracelet to her jewelry. She couldn't be sure who she would meet in the next few hours, and after the surprise of Elan Morin, she was sure her colleagues would be formidable. However, the angreal was gold and did not match her attire, and worst of all it would shout insecurity to those who detected it. Leaving the angreal on the wooden side-table, she fixed it to the table with Air, and then wove an inverted ward of Spirit around the bracelet which would create a saidar backblast against any channeler who touched it, leaving them burned out as punishment for their arrogance.

Striding gracefully from her rooms, she decided to head for the Grand Hall and measure herself up against her so-called allies. After meandering for a few minutes, she opened the wooden door into a very large room which resembled a laboratory. Obviously this was not the Grand Hall, despite the fact that she had followed the directions provided to her by a servant precisely. As she was closing the door, she heard a man muttering to himself, but she couldn't see him. Suddenly she caught a glimpse of movement from behind an array of glass scientific equipment, all filled with solutions of different colours, some boiling, others frothing, others still. Vast superprocessors lined the walls emitting sounds and visual data as their gargantuan formulae were solved. Intrigued, she stepped into the room and quietly closed the door. That movement again … and suddenly a large man appeared moving between the tables and typing furiously on the nano-array strapped to his left wrist. He was muttering to himself, softly but insistently cursing his errors, or perhaps venting some frustration. A beaker filled with a red solution seemed to float towards his left hand, which named him as Aes Sedai. Despite his large build his skin was pasty white and his dark hair was untidy and slacked over this forehead. This man no doubt spent most of his life in similar surroundings and rarely saw sunlight, if ever. He took no notice of her, and despite her subtle entrance, she doubted he would have noticed if the walls fell down around him. As if her thoughts spoke to him, he looked up and his focused expression turned sour.

"Get out woman, this is my private laboratory!"

The corner of her mouth twitched – she almost thought of him as courageous, but it was more likely he merely lacked any social graces. "My name is …"

"I didn't ask your name," he spat angrily, "I asked you to get out. Now leave before you anger me."

This type of fool only responded to visual messages. Touching saidar, she channeled and a small luminous blue ball appeared above her outstretched palm and started bouncing up and down cheerily. Looking up, she saw that he was shocked with surprise, his mouth hanging open silently. As suspected, there were obviously no male channelers in this castle either, and the appearance of a female who could wield the Power would have implications for him in many possible ways.

"Who are you?" he said more carefully, and swallowed hard.

He really was a silly man, whoever he was. "I am Nemendar Damendar Boann, but you may call me Semirhage. I was taking an evening walk, and stumbled upon some commotion in here. Imagine my surprise when I found a lab rat stuck in his cage during the late hours instead of dining in the Great Hall."

His face paled at the mention of her name, which was precisely the legacy she wanted her name to leave in its tracks. Then he frowned, probably trying to decide whether to react to the veiled insult she had swung his way. His mouth made a few attempts to speak, but after a brief cough he managed to regain his stature. "I am Ishar Morrad Chuian. I am close to yet another breakthrough. Hmm… perhaps I could use someone of your skill with a small problem I have. Would you would accompany me, Semirhage?"

He was world-famous biologist – possibly one of the greatest who ever lived. It was said that there was nothing in the area of genetics and biological construction that he hadn't discovered. She had never seen his picture in the tabloids before, probably because he wasn't exactly a poster boy for the Aes Sedai, and because biological breakthroughs were hardly of interest to the general public. She decided to accompany him, and see where this all would lead. As she moved deeper into the Hall she was surprised see parts of various animals and possibly human beings floating in glass chambers, the water aerated with fine bubbles propagating from the base of the chambers. Her eyes couldn't help but widen as she saw one last larger chamber with a disgusting grotesquery floating inside. It appeared to be the head and torso of a young woman, except her chest had been sawn open and the beating heart and breathing lungs were easily visible. The underside of the torso extended into legs and hooves which surely belonged to a cow or some larger animal. Her face had a pained expression and she was clearly screaming from inside the chamber, her dull murmurs not escaping the transparent walls. He had managed to merge a human and animal into one functioning organism, but why, and to what purpose? Glancing around, she noticed similar chambers involving men, women and children – all hybridized with some form of animal, some more successfully than others. As they moved deeper into the room, she noticed a series of cages filled with hideous beasts, which appeared to be the final products of those specimens she had just seen. They mostly resembled giant cattle that stood on their hind legs, but human features were definitely present in all of them, with a touch of an eagle or a goat here and there. In the cage on the far left was a tall creature which looked like it had wings, and on the opposite side sat a creature which would have been identical to a normal woman except for her pale skin, and the fact the bars of her cage had been bent. The bars were densely packed so that she couldn't even fit a finger between them. Is it possible that she was physically strong enough to bend thick metal bars?

"Do you like my children? I call those over there Trollocs. They're going to change the world, you know." He said pointing at the large beasts which were pacing back and forward in their cages, sometimes snorting, sometimes even spouting a coherent word or two. She wondered for the second time to what end he intended to use them. They appeared to be incredibly strong with minimal intellect, which made them ideal soldiers or laborers. She made no reply though, only shifted her gaze to the other cages, which he noticed of course. Smiling, he continued…

"The other is a Draghkar. You don't want this lover's kiss, take my word for it. As for my friend in the far cage, just count yourself lucky you are tied to the Great Lord, for she finds the blood of our brethren to be as sweet as honey, and I doubt even your skill could stop her from sampling your elegant neck, Semirhage." He finished with a cackle fit for a madman. Whatever he was talking about, she took heed to his warnings. Duram had convinced her that sometimes there was no point lying, especially when the truth was dangerous enough. More importantly, she could sense for the first time that he shared the same ties to the Great Lord that she did. The connection was so new to her that she ignored its presence half the time, even when it took him only a few minutes to pay cognizance to it.

"This display has been amusing, Ishar, but what do you require me for?" she said curtly.

He moved sulkily to a table which had a man tied to it, writhing and trying to free the invisible bonds which held his hands and feet down. He was dressed in a dark black cloak and she could see that his skin was white and sickly. On closer inspection, she discovered that he had no eyes, but he turned and looked at her as soon as they approached, as if his vision was as clear as day. A pulse of fear streaked across the exterior of her emotions, and she expected that their gaze was designed precisely for this. Anyone with a weak mind would probably be curled up and whimpering on the floor by now, but she scornfully pushed the emotion away.

"Interesting. Whatever this creation of yours, it impresses me greatly," she said softly. It really was a marvelous thing, a miscreant of pure loathing and terror, fully fit to serve the Shadow.

He scowled as he looked to the ground. "I didn't create the Myrddraal. The Trollocs have been breeding and these creatures appear to constitute one in a fifty or so of their progeny, and they fear them utterly. At first I thought they were congenital aberrations destined to die within the first few weeks of life, but in fact they are vastly superior to their parental counterparts. They are physically powerful and masterful in armed combat, and they possess an intellect similar to ours. Their eyes are curious, but their visual acuity is far greater than ours whether on the brightest day or deepest midnight. I have called you because one anomaly eludes me. They can transport themselves immediately from position to another using a shadow as a catalyst. I have performed autopsies on five of them already, but nothing they possess internally strikes me as odd. Their cloaks do not move even in the harshest surroundings, and I have come to the conclusion that they are out of phase with time and reality in some way. When I question them about their abilities, they claim ignorance. Considering your skills in these areas are well-known, I wish to know whether they are lying to me, because I believe they are."

She quickly Delved the Myrddraal. There was something odd about them, something which he hadn't mentioned. They seemed to be organically tained. If she channeled Water and Spirit through one, perhaps she could produce a tainted flow of the Power. The question would be how she could use such an invention? Semirhage leaned closer to the Myrddraal until her eyes were staring coldly into that eyeless face. Smiling, she asked, "Myrddraal, how do you displace yourself using light and the absence thereof? Tell me. Tell me now."

Its voice was coarse and grave, but its forehead was sweating and anxiety laced its voice. "I do not know, Great Mistress. None of us do."

Still smiling, she turned to Ishar who was frowning at the Myrddraal. "Send him and three of his counterparts to my hospital via a gateway in the morning. I'll have an answer for you within the week. You are strong enough to Travel?"

He burst out laughing in her face, his whole body convulsing with laughter as tears started running down his cheeks. He didn't seem to notice her dispassionate gaze, and it took some time for him to cease. "Yes, I think if I pushed my abilities I could form a gateway, Semirhage. Or maybe I would need some use of Duram's angreal." Once again he started wheezing with laughter, which was becoming monotonous to attend. "It wouldn't help anyway. Most of these creatures cannot survive passage through a One Power gateway, but not to worry, I will get them to your hospital by tomorrow morning."

After a quick nod, she turned on her heel and started towards the main passage again, and she could hear his hysterical laughter bubbling up again. He was a stupid man, finding hilarity in simple questions. A few minutes later she strode into the Grand Hall, but only Duram and another women were present, both on separate sides of the Hall. The Hall was very large with the usual marbled floors, and a massive crystal chandelier reaching down from the roof. At least twenty servants were waiting upon the two guests, and her entrance caused at least five of them to head in her direction. Duram was sitting alone at a table toying with his angreal but at the same time talking to a woman over a portable communications array, while the woman was examining an artwork of Lews Therin and Tel Janin opening the Oryodon World Sports games last year. She had spoken to Duram earlier and she was in no mood for his childish tantrums or his flaunts of masculine mastery. She strode toward the woman examining the artwork, and accepted a drink from a servant on the way. The woman was about as tall as her, dressed in a beautiful long white dress with a silver belt and silver hair decorations.

"Good evening," Nemene said neutrally.

The woman turned around and Semirhage was shocked to see that it was Mierin Eronaile, Lews Therin's former lover. She had met her only once when Mierin was still a student. She was exquisitely beautiful, and her long black hair complimented her milky skin. She remembered something else about her though, and without thought she once again sensed that unbelievable strength in the Power which Mierin possessed. The woman was considerably stronger than her in sheer potential, even if she possibly lacked in skill. Or at least, she tried to convince herself that Mierin's skill would make them equals. It was a rare woman who could improve on her skill with all five Powers, but there were always exceptions. Her vapid gaze examined Semirhage from head to toe, and she sniffed derisively.

"The noted Semirhage graces my presence. How lucky for me," she replied rudely. "Did you come to greet me, Semirhage, or ask for my protection against the local authorities?"

She had expected as much from the arrogant wench. Mierin had been much the same as a student all those years ago. The woman considered herself to be far superior to others even though her lack of accomplishments as an Aes Sedai screamed otherwise. If she had known this chit was here, she would have rather have started a conversation with Duram, or even Ishar. She was not about to let this fool get the better of her, though. For all her vaunted bravery, she doubted the woman had two neurons to rub together. The Creator no doubt blessed her with strength in the Power and physical beauty to balance her empty head. The biggest Rh'aza beast could be snared in a simple trap. She thought Mierin was the type of woman who would be caught by the ward surrounding her angreal. Now, _that_ was a vivid thought.

"Hello Mierin," Semirhage said. "No, I wasn't here to greet you. I wasn't satisfied with the décor in my rooms, and after reading about how Lews Therin treated you, I decided to see if there was anything left for me to tramp on."

Mierin's cheeks colored, and Semirhage half-expected to see the glow of the Power surround her. "I no longer call myself Mierin. My name is Lanfear, and I react badly to those who don't respect that."

_Daughter of the Night?_ What was the woman on about? Silly fool, thinking she was more than she really was. "Very well," Nemene said. "How did you come to ally yourself with the Great Lord?"

Mierin turned and stared at the painting once more, her eyes set on Lews Therin. "My reasons are my own, but know this. He was mine once, and he will be again. The Great Lord has all but promised to aid my efforts in reclaiming Lews Therin's hand. I'll break those who stand between us." Her eyes were fierce and appeared to burn with emotion, and even her mouth had become a snarl which scarred her beauty. "I assume you are here out of desperation?" she added, the corner of her mouth twitching in mockery.

Semirhage coolly ignored the insult. "Then you assume incorrectly, Lanfear. A sentiment I suppose occurs repeatedly for you. Duram recruited me at the Great Lord's personal behest. My skills are unique, you understand. You understand the concept of skills and Talents, don't you Lanfear?"

Mierin's face once again reddened and she made no attempt to veil her anger. "You run where wise men fear to crawl, Semirhage! Just make sure you don't take it too far. In my experience, those who play that game with me always end up last."

This conversation was heading nowhere. They were acting like two stuck-up men competing for a medal in a Sanje tournament. A young servant appeared beside Semirhage, and bowed deeply. Like all servants he was dressed in black, and so attractive that he had obviously been chosen for his pleasing appearance.

"Excuse me, Great Mistress. The Great Master Morin Tedronai passes word that he has delivered a prisoner to your hospital. Prime Counsellor Benson is in transit in the hospital foyer. Do you have any commands?"

Lanfear snorted. "Your master is rattling your chain, Semirhage. Now be a good girl and run off to please him."

Semirhage didn't even look in her direction, and showed absolutely no reaction. This ignoramus actually thought she could vex one of the great minds of current times. "I have just one instruction. Remove the Prime Counsellor's Rod of Dominion from his possession. Who knows? If Lanfear here spots it, the poor man might be forced into courtship."

Lanfear's face twisted with fury, and Semirhage was moments away from embracing saidar to defend herself from the inevitable attack, when the young man beside her chuckled. Mierin's sinister glare turned to him and with shocking speed a complex weave of Air and Spirit struck him. Semirhage watched with fascination as the resonant weave twisted and cracked his whole spinal column many times before dissipating. The man let out a terrible scream and crumpled to the floor, his neck and torso twisted in horrible positions. Semirhage and Lanfear stared at one another for a moment before both turning on their heels and striding away in opposite directions. She decided to return to her rooms to ponder her situation. Could she have been fast enough to slice that weave if Lanfear had sent it her way? It would have been close. Lanfear displayed arrogance in its purest form. She knew she was the strongest possible woman, and therefore made no attempts to veil her emotions. Anyone who mocked her would unleash her temper, and then promptly be destroyed. She thought it might not be a bad idea to hide her ability and hold the Source in the presence of these dangerous peers of hers, and maybe she shouldn't shirk her angreal, and actually use it. It wouldn't be a shameful idea, anyway – Duram didn't constantly carry that angreal around for amusement alone. She needed to think on all these issues. In most circles she had been the strongest channeler by far. She had seldom been in the presence of so many strong channelers, and she doubted Ishar was weak in the Power either. It made no sense for the Great Lord to tie the weak to him, no matter how skilled they were in other areas. Strength in the Power was of prime importance in a place where lethal competition was actively encouraged.

Entering her rooms she was surprised to see a young woman sitting on her leather sofa entertaining herself with the communications array. She was a fool for entering one of the Chosen's rooms, and double a fool for choosing this Chosen's room.

"Whoever you are, this day is about to end very badly for you." She embraced the Source and leisurely prepared two flows of Air to bind the woman, and another of Fire and Spirit to initiate the woman's demise. The woman very calmly stood, turned off the array and slowly strode towards Semirhage. She was young and very plain looking, but she had an intelligent face. Her long brown dress was of decent quality, but Semirhage got the distinct impression that she was rising above her financial means and trying to impress.

"My name is Saine Tarasind, Semirhage. It took me several weeks to track you down to this place, and a great deal of effort to smuggle myself into your rooms. The security here is formidable." The woman walked casually to the drinks table and prepared herself a beverage. Continuing, she added, "I have always admired your efforts, and have long considered your approach to civilians to be the correct one."

Semirhage could sense no potential in her, but perhaps she was hiding her abilities. "What could you, a common civilian, do for someone like me?"

Saine merely smiled and sipped from her glass. Semirhage suddenly felt a weave of Spirit unravel, and she resisted the urge to draw a little deeper on the Source. Suddenly she could sense Saine's potential, and it was the same as her own! The fact that so many strong Aes Sedai were popping up all over the place all the time, was becoming tiresome. A few weeks previously she would have had to search high and wide to meet a woman of equal potential. Now she had leave the island to meet some who was weaker! She released the Source.

"I know how you feel about Aes Sedai, and therefore I did not want to alarm you. As you can see I have the mettle to follow in your footsteps, and my skill is above average. I know that you are part of a dark organization of some kind, but I can already sense the powerful inner workings and planning starting to build up here. So… I wish to prove myself to you so that you may sponsor my allegiance to this new Power."

The girl _was_ intelligent, and had probably not merely stumbled upon her information. "What are your reasons?" Semirhage asked simply.

The girl's face became more serious and sense of deep disappointment, yet rage seemed to radiate from her. "I spent most of my young life striving to become a saidar researcher at the Collam Daan. For over fifty years I submitted works which were posted in most international science journals. Every article I have ever written has been graded _grand achievement_ or higher Despite this, last year they cut me from under the knees by refusing me a position in research. Now I am subjected to teaching simpleton students on a daily basis. So Semirhage, like you, I feel unappreciated by the Aes Sedai… and I want revenge, and not just to break them, but to let them know how deep their mistake was."

It was an impressive little speech which had obviously been prepared, and as she suspected, Saine wanted to impress her. Perhaps there were vague parallels between them, even if she was akin to comparing an eagle to a fly. The Shadow could use someone of Saine's strength and hateful resolve. The fact that she was yet another threat to add was easily avoidable… Saine was devoted and even biddible, unlike Lanfear who seemed fiercely independent and treacherous. Semirhage could use her influence to form a weak alliance with Saine, that they not harm one another until they had undermined the others first. Semirhage herself wouldn't abide by it, but it was good to know that Saine would first look in another direction before setting her sites on her.

"A test of devotion could be arranged, I suppose," she said indifferently, "but what do you think of my bracelet there?" It was a test, obviously.

Saine didn't even look around, but smiled widely. "The angreal, you mean. I sensed it as soon as I entered the room, along with all the other detection wards, which I unfortunately had to avoid. A dasjan angreal I would propose… with a ratio impedence of eighteen to twenty five? The flow of Air was an amusing distraction. I did however, enjoy the inverted trap on the bracelet. Allow me to guess… Spirit in six-eight-one configuration, or Fire and Water in sixteen-twelve?"

For an Aes Sedai to have detected her wards implied above average abilities reading resonances, but to actually have deciphered the Powers in the trap without triggering it required great mastery in the field of residues and resonances. It was a field which Semirhage herself had only middling abilities in. Her assumptions regarding the angreal were accurate too, which proved that her scientific abilities were superior to her boasts. The girl was resourceful, but could she stand up to conflict, or was she smitten by stories of heroism and vengeance?

"Very well, Saine. I am suitably impressed," she said, her expression suggesting the opposite. "I do have need of your services. There is a male Aes Sedai who once opposed me. He must pay, of course. Unfortunately he has decided to barricade himself in the Hall of the Servants in Paaren Disen until I am safely secure in the hands of the Seekers. Sadly for him, that is not to be. I need to seize him and bring him here, so that I can take care of him personally. However, I feel that a lone effort to attack the Hall of the Servants would be challenging, even for me. You are going to help me. I warn you though, if you don't weave for all you're worth, I'll kill you right there." Her expressionless face made the threat seem deadly.

Saine's smile had slipped when she mentioned the Hall of the Servants in Paaren Disen. Granted, it was probably the worst place in the world to attack, but was the woman scared, and was this therefore a mistake? No, she would have to extend her very limited trust to Saine for this task. She could kill Saine if it came to it, but she wouldn't look forward to it.

"I agree, Semirhage. You needn't worry about betrayal – I am trying to prove my worth to the Shadow, you remember? I look forward to facing some Aes Sedai myself. Will we be going now, or should I prepare in some way?"

"We leave now" Semirhage responded. "Hide your potential, and reverse all weaves until absolutely necessary. I'm not sure about your standing with the Hall, but mine demands an Illusion at least until we are safely inside."

The glow had surrounded Saine as soon as Semirhage had started speaking, and she could feel her drawing on the Power until the nimbus surrounding her was almost blinding. After weaving the last flow of Spirit, the glow around Saine disappeared, but she didn't add an Illusion. It was testimony that she deliberately wished to incriminate herself, and therefore seal herself to the Shadow. Semirhage wove her own flows, and then added an Illusion which made her seem shorter, with long brown hair and pale skin. She decided against bringing the angreal. It would react with the ter'angreal at the Great Doors anyway, and if at any time it became displaced from her body, she would be burned out and killed. Besides, she and Saine together were a match for any Aes Sedai, especially a group so unwilling to show hostility.

"I won't be able to get past the ter'angreal guarding the Great Doors undetected. It has been too well designed. Make ready as many flows as you can handle, and as soon as you and I are revealed, do your worst. We'll have to work quickly then. The fools might succumb to shock initially but they won't waste time forming circles to seize us."

Saine merely nodded. "I agree. I will follow your lead. Let's be done with this then." Semirhage wove a gateway to the Travelling Plaza in Paaren Disen. Stepping through, she released the Source and wove Water and Spirit to smother the residues which could determine their point of origin, but watched as Saine glanced at her reproachfully and added her own weave to smother the residues. She obviously considered Semirhage's effort to hide the residues to be insufficient and amateur at best. The bright sunlight was a sharp contrast to the barren atmosphere of the blighted island she had been working on. They walked hastily toward the Hall's main entrance. The whole plaza was packed with civilians and Aes Sedai, none of the women even a quarter as strong as Saine or her. She glanced to her side, and saw Saine, her face determined and focused. Her eyes were almost as cold as her own, and Semirhage saw her in a new light for the first time. She predicted that Saine would rise high among them with time, but that was _not_ suitable pondering for their current situation. She drew on the Source until she could hold not a scrap more saidar safely. At once she tied off the Illusion and the disguising weaves, and readied ten flows – some of Air and Fire, others Fire and Earth, and others of Fire, Water and Air. She continued letting the Power flow into these weaves until they pulsed with energy. Stepping up to the Great Doors, they had to politely fend off some warm greetings for Saine, and others naming her as Saine's assistant. Saine stepped through the ter'angreal.

"_Tarasind, Saine. Saidar lecturer, third class. Access levels one through six, eight through fifteen."_

Semirhage could see through the glass windows that the inner lobby was filled with Aes Sedai and Da'shain Aiel. Perhaps this was all part of the inquiry into her capture, or perhaps it could be as simple as a retirement party for some old crone. This was the moment of truth … she and Saine would either rise together or fall together. Unfortunately the Great Lord would need his master Restorer for the War, so these Aes Sedai would have to die in her place. The thought filled her with eager anticipation and excitement. She stepped through the ter'angreal, the blood pulsing in her ears.

"_Damendar, Nemene honorific Boann. Seeker priority level one. Master alert initiated."_

Most people probably wouldn't have noticed its chant, but the instant after it announced her dreaded presence, an alarm resounded through the whole building, a Power-wrought echo of a repetitive mechanized groan followed by a warning. _"Alert! Alert! The Hall is in imminent danger. All persons within are to vacate the building immediately. Unlimited Travelling access granted until further notice."_

Semirhage dived through the ter'angreal and unraveled the Illusion and the disguising weaves. Fear of her appearance would hopefully do some good in itself. She felt Saine release her weaves too. Leaping to her feat she shouted, "Saine, now!" The girl was remarkably quick and calm. People were slowly overcoming their shock, and a murmur appeared followed by shouts, and finally hysteria. Saine turned towards the entrance of the Hall and the huge glass entrance windows lining the entire entrance shattered into thousands of fragments, cutting down those who were nearby. Semirhage didn't have time to watch Saine's efforts. Facing the lobby full of Aes Sedai and civilians she let loose her worst destruction, all her strength released in an instant. Lifting her hands she showered the lobby with fireballs, two sprouting from each palm at once and splitting hundreds of times as they traveled. Within two seconds there were literally hundreds of fireballs shooting across the lobby, each fireball screeching as it flew through the place. Most of the civilians died instantly, their bodies incinerated to ash on contact with the fireballs, or else torn to pieces or burned to char. Aes Sedai were falling too, the glow surrounded some too, but only in time for them to be burst apart by fire. Fire littered the huge area, most Aes Sedai trying to hold the inferno at bay rather than retaliating. Small circles were starting to form amidst the mayhem. She decided to switch to the flows of Fire and Earth she had prepared, and arrows of Fire sprouted from her fingers – ten from each finger flying wildly across the Hall. Each arrow killed at least two people, if not more. There were so many hundreds of arrows flying through the air that she could barely see anything, except the glow of fallen Aes Sedai disappearing. She aimed for the elevators and heard the screams of the dying inside as both shafts were reduced to ruin. She felt a shield rebound off her, and turned to see two terrified middle-aged women in a circle trying to shield her. Weaving Air and Water, she filled their lungs with water and walked away without watching them flail and thrash in their last few lucid seconds. Everyone in the lobby was dead. It was filled with at least two hundred bodies, or fragments thereof, and it had been thoroughly destroyed by her efforts, the white cueran stones scorched by her flames and the pillars cracked or broken by her arrows. The heat inside the building was almost overwhelming. She became aware of Saine, saidar flowing through her in huge amounts. Turning, she surveyed a scene of similar destruction. Rings of fire were propagating from her in ever increasing circles, scorching any and all who got in their way before they dissipated not less than a thousand feet away. This explained why she cleared the windows of the Hall first. Enormous pillars of earth lifted into the air sending terrified people a hundred feet into the Air while showering those on the ground with uprooted concrete and mortar. Fifty bolts of lightning were shooting from the now-darkened sky at a tremendous rate. There was so much lightning that she struggled to see the ground between the bright flashes. Each bolt exploded among a group of fleeing people, or destroyed a Jo-car, or rent a huge hole in the side of the building. Either way, only a madman could hope to enter that maelstrom and live. Saine's face was cold and determined. Two flows of Spirit and Fire were spinning around Saine with such speed they almost blurred, every now and again slicing a weave which attempted to snare or harm her. When she spotted the glow of the Power or a male in Aes Sedai attire, her cruel stare would fix on the channeler and almost instantaneously, all fifty bolts would focus on to that single spot, before resuming their random annihilation of the plaza. There appeared to be no living people in sight, and Semirhage could hear the screams of the entire city, and if mass hysteria had infected the whole population of this enormous city.

"Let's go. We have to take care of those in the building, not those outside of it," she said severely. Saine sniffed, and tied off her lightning flows tightly into a complex knot before reversing them. They would hold for a hundred years unless someone unraveled them, which would take a Talented Aes Sedai half a day at least, or more if Saine's Talent was as strong as Semirhage suspected. Running to the stairs they sprinted up them as fast they could, but stopped at every level to weave explosive wards into the floors for would-be trackers. Their target would be on the thirty-second floor. It was unlikely he would have the courage to Travel from the Hall, surely terrified that she would be waiting to knife him in the back as soon as he left it. They reached the thirty-second floor, and quickly drained the weariness from one another, although Saine's weave was clumsy and unrefined. "Go ahead. I will cover your back," Saine murmured. Semirhage started trotting down the wide passage, which appeared deserted. Suddenly she detected saidar being channeled ahead of her somewhere. It was pointless to wait for an imminent attack and she loosed her arrows of Fire once more, and soon she was running while hundreds of the cords flew from her fingers and crashed through marble, tables and other equipment tearing them to pieces. She heard screams and smiled unpleasantly, but her weaving only intensified. She heard Saine shouting from behind her, but thunderous explosions ahead muted her to an irritating buzz. Dropping her flows she turned a questioning eye to Saine. "I said you're going to bring the whole building down. Most of this south wall is gone if you hadn't noticed. And they're going to know where we are now," Saine was shouting furiously.

"This was never a covert mission, as you well know," she replied coolly. Saine hadn't woven anything since they had appeared on this floor. Perhaps the place really was totally deserted. "Stay here. I'll be back soon," she said. Walking hastily towards the large office door, she turned around once more to see Saine readying several nasty weaves as a precaution. There was certainly no lack of intelligence in that woman. As she approached the large wooden and gold embossed doors, she wove Air and the doors exploded into thousands of splinters. Two eyes examined her fearfully from behind the desk of a very large and seemingly influential office. The graying man stood, and with a yell flung out his hand releasing a fireball in her direction. She deflected it with a barrier of Fire and Air. Weaving Spirit she shielded him with little difficulty, and then floated his thrashing body over to her. He looked at her for a second, the terror in his eyes bordering on hysteria.

"Nemene, please. You have to understand I had no…"

Without thought she wove Air and grabbed his tongue and pulled on it, and then snapped his jaw shut amputating his extended tongue. His guttural screams made her smile, and she watched him convulse in his bonds with agony. She would Heal him later of course. He would die over many years, slowly until his last agonizing breath.

"Your sniveling voice always irritated me, Roedran. You should not have crossed me. In time, you will envy the pain you just underwent, for it will seem like a maiden's kiss compared to what I'm going to do to you. You should feel honoured, my old friend. I've killed so many people today just to become reacquainted with you. Let us be gone. We don't want to overstay our welcome."

His defeated eyes were streaming with tears, and blood was pouring from his open mouth. She strode from his office, maintaining the shield and floating him behind her on flows of Air. She could feel him beating at the shield like a wild animal, but he was far too weak to challenge its integrity. She saw Saine stepping backwards, almost dancing. Saine glanced quickly in her direction. "Some help, if you please Semirhage."

Semirhage looked quickly to her right and saw a circle of seven advancing on them, six women and a man, all very young and probably newly raised. There was a group of heroes in every hostile situation, but these infants would unfortunately die long before their allotted time. The leader was well ahead of the others, and she was smiling victoriously at having pushed a woman like Saine back. Her weaves were stronger than Saine or hers, and Saine managed to slice them just in time before they cut her off from the Source. Semirhage seized a tactical advantage, and weaving Air and Earth the passage wall exploded violently, instantly propelling six members of the circle out of the gaping hole which used to be the south wall of the thirty-second floor. Screaming, they plummeted to their deaths. Not even Aes Sedai could fly. The leader, abandoned on her foolish quest, didn't even have time to cry out before Saine cut off her head with a razor-sharp weave of Air.

"You have him, I see - whoever he is," Saine said, sounding breathless. "Let's go before some experienced Aes Sedai decide to come looking for a fight."

Semirhage nodded, and before long they were running down the passage and back down the stairwells. They had very little choice in the matter – neither she nor Semirhage knew these floors well enough to Travel. Due to her status, Semirhage rarely frequented anywhere below the eightieth floor, and Saine spent most of her time on the second floor if she visited the Hall. Descending to the lobby was not as easy as they had expected. They had expected an army to chase them upstairs, and when none came, they had to unravel all the wards which they had placed in the floors of the staircase. This was compounded by the fact that Semirhage had to float a shielded, bound male Aes Sedai behind her all the way. Reaching the lobby, Semirhage's new found sense of achievement was utterly erased when they discovered a delegation standing between them and the exit. There were seven middle aged men standing in a pinnacled formation, three males on each side flanking a man in the middle. He was very tall and his formidable presence could be felt even from across the lobby. His grim face promised them an eternity of remorse for their actions. _Barid Bel Medar_ … Semirhage was paralyzed, not from fear but from surprise. Of all the Aes Sedai in Paaren Disen, how deep was their misfortune to have come across this man? Saine's expression wasn't vague at all. Her face was as pale as possible, terror across her face as her lips trembled, her eyes wide and fixed on his face.

"Oh my god," Saine groaned, and sprinted off to the side rooms as fast as her legs could carry her, as if fleeing from a nightmare. Semirhage stared after her, filled with exasperation at being deserted in the face of overwhelming superiority. Standing alone, the balance suddenly shifted from improbable to impossible. Staring defiantly for a moment longer, she had no choice but to run after Saine, dragging a male channeler behind her. Running through the maze of side rooms, she thought she had lost Saine, when suddenly she felt saidar being channeled a few rooms to the north. Running as fast as she could, she burst through the closed doors to find Saine frantically channeling Spirit. A silvery vertical slash appeared, opening to the Fortress in the Blight.

"No!" Semirhage shouted, and ran as fast as she could towards the gateway. Channeling Spirit and Fire, she sliced Saine's flows and watched her grunt as the severed flows recoiled. "You fool," Semirhage sneered, "… you will allow them to trace us to the Blight!" Saine wasn't listening though. Semirhage was standing in front of her, but her gaze was deviated to the right where her gateway used to be, her mouth open in shock. Semirhage let her anger drain away, and turned to see what Saine was staring at. Her gateway was still open, but it had collapsed to a small square one pace wide and one pace high. She could see it trying to collapse, but some invisible bar was holding it open against its will. It could only be a weave of saidin, but how? On instinct she swung around, and was confronted by the doom of Barid Bel Medar facing them from the wide open doors to the room, the only exit blocked by an entity stronger than heartstone. Saine had turned moments after her, and shrieked when she saw him, backing away into the wall and releasing the Source in shock. He took one step forward, and a dark half-smile appeared on his face.

"It's no use running. I now know where your strategic base of operations lies. Once I have finished with you, I will lead my southern legion through and crush what little resistance you think you have created. But that will follow after." His smile disappeared and his grave look made Saine groan, her breathing heavy and laboured. "I suppose you two thought we would take you away and have you bound against violence. Oh no, no, no. I'm going to personally break you. Then I'm going to sever you. And then, I'm going to kill you both." Semirhage heard mumbling to her right, and saw Roedran obviously relieved that he had been rescued, but Barid paid him no attention at all.

They were in deep trouble. There was probably only one man in the world who exceeded Barid Bel Medar in strength and skill. He was legendary in almost every sphere of life. When he initiated something, he became a master of it. Now that civilization was collapsing, he proved to be one of the great generals of the modern Age. His ability to block their gateway was unheard of and possibly a Talent in itself, but she thought she could perhaps figure out a female equivalent. His passed judgment didn't cause her any fear, but oddly enough made her respect him – if it was possible for her to respect any Aes Sedai. If he thought he could defeat Semirhage, he was gravely mistaken.

She tied off the flows of Air binding Roedran. "Assume his shield," she said to Saine, who for a wonder barely hesitated before a flow of Spirit reached out to Roedran. Perhaps she thought that performing a menial task in the corner of the room would preclude her from combat. She was probably right. She needed no help to stand against this man. Slowly walking towards Barid, she filled herself with saidar, every shred she could handle. His half-smile returned, and he actually looked pleased to encounter someone who stood up to him, or perhaps he was amused that a woman would stand against him.

Suddenly she stopped, and three huge fireballs streaked from her outstretched hand. He would only see one of course, as two were inverted. It was a pity for him that that a simple inverted flow of Fire would burn his head off. The three fireballs moved with terrible speed. The fireball on the right had traveled less than half the distance to him when it suddenly unraveled. She had less than a second to register her shock when the centre diversion fireball rebounded back at her at twice the speed. Weaving Fire, Earth and Air, she blocked the fireball, but staggered under its weight. He had added something to greatly magnify its force. Glancing up she watched aghast as the last desperate fireball stopped a pace short of him. He pulled it into his hand and suddenly it changed into a solid metallic mass floating up his palm. Instantly it melted, and formed a swirling silver pool above his hand which gave off threads of metal as fine as embroidery thread. The threads started to coalesce, most remaining silvery and bright, others assuming a golden colour. The fibers wove themselves as if two invisible knitting needles or deft fingers were threading them. As quick as it had begun, it was over …. a gilded silver breastplate of great beauty floating two paces away from him and polished to perfection. He looked at it with sly admiration, and then dropped it onto the floor with a resonant clang. He was mocking her! His display here could not be duplicated by any channeler she knew, and his ability with Earth and Fire seemed almost unsurpassable. Snarling, she stretched out both her hands and hurled lightning at him, the roar of the energy almost deafening in the enclosed space. At the same time she filled his half of the passage with fire which scorched the white walls instantly. Not wishing to stop there, she flung hundreds of needles of Air in his direction with the eager anticipation that she would neatly land one in his eye. After nearly a minute of utter destruction, she released her flows and stared at the destroyed passageway ahead. She could see very little. The passage had been torn to pieces with lightning and black smoke rose from where Barid had been standing. Suddenly the fire disappeared entirely and the smoke vanished into clear air. Semirhage looked on in cool astonishment, and saw him standing, completely unscathed and almost at leisure. In desperation, she sent out her lethal weave of Fire and Spirit, as strong as she could weave one flow. She could not toy with this man. He would have to die as quickly as possible. Before the flow touched him, he sliced it not once, but twice! She grunted painfully as the double fragment recoiled into her chest.

Without delay, he moved forward, his face composed and not at all vexed by the hell she had rained down upon him. She almost panicked when she felt a huge barrier descend on her connection to saidar, and she sliced it for all she was worth. Stepping back, she sliced the next one which came from a different direction, but stronger. If the next one was stronger… she had little time to ponder the moment when exactly that event happened. The power of the shield was too much for her, and she winced as she lost the Power. Once again she had no time to react, as she was smashed by an invisible hand into the south wall. Staggering to her feet, she felt the shield disappear, and as the Power entered her once more, he shielded her again, just to taunt her. Something picked her up by the foot and lifted her into the air. A furious fire formed below her, and she thought he intended to burn her alive. As she dropped, she knew she was going to die writhing in flames, but just inches from those hot embers, the fire vanished and another hand smashed her into the opposite wall with terrible force. As she hit the wall she felt her left arm break, and was convinced she'd fractured her cheek too. She thought she heard Saine groan again. He really was drawing this out to his full advantage. His eyes were cold, so very cold. He was possibly as merciless as she was which meant that she was going to die over many hours in this passage. Holding her arm, she staggered and fell along the wall, no doubt amusing him as an ant would amuse someone who'd plucked off its legs. Reaching Saine, she feigned collapsing on Saine's shoulder, and seized the opportunity to whisper in her ear.

"Open yourself to linking," she said, the pain of her arm and abused body pulsing in her body. Saine's gaping mouth closed, but Semirhage could feel her reaching out. Semirhage completed the circle and felt saidar rush into her through Saine. She could feel Saine's slight deficiency in Water, but at the same time the woman appeared to be stronger than her in Spirit, which was quite unusual given that she was strong in all Powers. She still had to maintain the shield on Roedran, and she couldn't knock him out and tie it off. If he awoke and unraveled it, they would be in a worse position, if that was even possible. Even someone of her strength could be stabbed in the back by a lesser channeler. Drawing the full potential of the link, she swung round, fury and contempt lacing her dark features. His face and stance changed, as if she had gained some advantage which he hadn't discovered yet. She could see in his eyes that his toying was over, and that serious events would now begin. She didn't even hesitate. Weaving fifteen flows of razor-sharp Spirit, she struck out at him, and he staggered back a step as they collided with his defensive wards. The flows were precise enough to shield him individually, thanks to the link. If she could get one through, then she could reinforce it to hold him, and then kill him immediately. It was a vain hope. Instead of slicing her flows, he opposed them with fifteen invisible flows of his own. There they stood like two bulls with locked horns, making neither progress nor retreat. She was drawing as much saidar as the circle allowed, and yet she couldn't force him back. She still couldn't believe he was so strong with the Power. He was snarling, and so was she. Beads of sweat started to form on his forehead, and she blinked as a drop of perspiration rolled into her eye. It was a stand-off.

"Your skills and strength are being wasted, Barid. You could be greater than anyone imagined. The Shadow could use an asset like you," she suddenly blurted.

His derisive snort was dripping with scorn. "I _am_ the greatest who ever lived, Semirhage. Why should I join a gang of rejected Aes Sedai, hoodlums and thieves, when I am already greater than any other in the world."

Her features remained smooth, which was no small feat with his flows bearing down so heavily. "You will always be second to _him_, Barid. He graces the memories of the lowest and the greatest. Do you really think they will ever appoint you to lead the armies of the Light against us? You are second best, but you need not be."

His eyes filled with fury as she ended, and she felt a surge in his flows, as if he was reaching out to kill her with his hatred, or perhaps projecting an established hatred onto her. She weakened the shield on Roedran, and could feel it start to bend under Roedran's efforts. It was ludicrous. She was holding over half again as much of her own potential, and she couldn't overwhelm him. She searched his possession for an angreal to explain it all, but knew in her heart that he was fighting unaided. "Saine and I have already established positions of prominence in the Shadow. In an alliance, we could rise above the others, all of them among the greatest who have walked this world. You would be unmatchable, and you could finally prove the Dragon's supporters wrong. How do you expect to do this, when you are named his subordinate?"

The anger dulled from his face, and suddenly his flows vanished. He seemed complacent, but she would bet almost anything that he was as ready as when they had first met. She relaxed her flows but started spinning defensive wards in case he planned a late surgical strike. "Very well," he said abruptly. "I will give you passage from this place. You can even take him with you. He always irritated me, anyway." Roedran's mouth writhed in horror as this revelation dawned, but Barid didn't look at him. "In exchange, you will keep _my_ options open in the Shadow. A time may come when I may decide to honour your offer. I will let you know where some of our troops are fighting, and in exchange you will sacrifice some of your forces to improve my image. Remember, Semirhage. I know where to find you, and if you betray me while you claim to be an ally of mine, then I will make you beg for death. And next time, I won't play around." Without a reply, he turned on his heels and walked out of the ruined passage, and the weave holding the gateway vanished. He had actually been holding that flow all along. Amazing.

After he left, they stood there in sullen silence for a moment, only Roedran's groans and muffled pleas ringing through the room. Semirhage dissolved the link and passed the shield to Saine, and without hesitation pulled on the True Power, gathering the minimum required amount to form a gateway. This had been her plan all along, until Saine had ruined it. She tried to bore a hole like a man did when wielding saidin, but the malevolent energy bounded from her hands and tore at the Pattern, ripping a hole to her hospital in the Blight. Saine gasped, but Semirhage did not have the will to countenance her curiosity. Stepping through, she released the True Power as soon as she could, the intense screaming and occasional black flecks ceasing instantly. Walking into the foyer of the hospital, she encountered her chief attendant, Ader, who bowed deeply. She instructed him to take Roedran to a chamber, have him stripped and placed inside. As soon as her commands were uttered, Jom placed a silvery collar around Roedran's neck which would prevent him from touching the Source. If he touched it, he would convulse and vomit into unconsciousness. She had created those ter'angreal in one of her more idle moments a few weeks previously. Semirhage opened a gateway to her rooms in the main Fortress, and Saine followed in her tracks. As soon as the gateway closed, she slapped Saine across the cheek as hard as she could, so that the other woman staggered a pace back. Touching her reddened check, the woman looked at her in shock, not willing to believe that she had been assaulted by her supposed ally.

"Your hysteria nearly cost us our lives, you stupid woman! When I finally managed to track down your fleeing carcass, you contributed nothing to help me against one of the most dangerous men who has ever lived. What use are you to the Shadow when you cannot even stand up to the top Aes Sedai? Do you really think Lews Therin will send apprentice learners after us when we reveal ourselves? Even you should be able to guess that one day he himself will step upon these shores! What will you do then… cry and whimper as you did today? Well? What do you have to say for yourself?" Semirhage rarely lost her temper, but this was as close as she had been for a very long time, and her throbbing arm fueled it.

The other woman looked blankly at Semirhage, and for an instant she thought the woman would apologize and possibly start to cry again. Instead, Nemene suddenly found herself shaking her head, stars littering her vision. The girl had slapped her back, with all the force of her arm steering her attack! Standing up, Semirhage wiped the blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. She smiled at Saine, who hesitated then smiled back. She would do _very well_ in the Shadow. Almost cordially, Semirhage asked, "Do you have any Talent with Healing? Barid took several liberties with my anatomy."

Saine nodded once, and stepped forward. "Average at best, and only if I exert myself." The glow did envelop her however, and Semirhage felt the unpracticed weave of all five Powers settling on her, her broken bones weaving themselves together, and her pains melting away. Saine stood panting when she was done, a thin sheen of sweat covering her forehead. Perhaps she really had overexerted herself, or perhaps channeling such vast amounts of the Power had finally taken its toll. She herself felt fatigued, and escorting Saine to the door, she retired to her bedroom and slept for what seemed a very long time. She had done it. She had confronted the Hall of the Servants, destroyed her enemies, captured the one who dared to cross her, survived a direct assault by arguably one of the most powerful Aes Sedai, and initiated an alliance which would aid her ascent to the top tiers of the Shadow. If there had ever been a woman of greater prowess, she would very much like to meet her.

… four years later…

Semirhage was walking down the long main passage of her hospital, the occasional agonizing scream echoing through the hallways. The beautiful white building now contained over eighty patients, and she had honed her skills to unparalleled perfection thanks to their assistance. What impressed her most was not her work, but that she never lost the passion for her art. Every day brought new promise to her, and she could barely wait to step through the main doors of the colossal building when each new day came. She followed much the same routine on a daily basis. She would inspect every patient personally, Heal any damage from the previous day, and then reweave her flows. Answers were not even a priority of hers, but they were a fruitful byproduct of her efforts. Patients thought it would cease their pain, but she couldn't understand where that rumour had originated from. The Darkfriends she passed in the passage bowed as deeply as they could … some carrying new patients, others collar ter'angreal, and others random items. Everyone was dressed in white clothes and the entire building seemed to glow from the inside. She was the exception of course, the contrast to balance the imperfection … her black dress and gold jewelry a profound message for all those resided in her domain.

"Semirhage," she heard from behind her. She glided to a halt, and slowly turned to address the imperious female voice which had hailed her. The plain looking woman walked purposely up to her, her green silk dress swishing in her stride. She had also changed in the four years since they had first met. She was harder, stronger and far more dangerous – possibly as dangerous as Semirhage was when she first joined the Shadow. Unfortunately, she too had become far more dangerous in the years since.

"Mesaana," Semirhage said simply and nodded. Mesaana stopped short and they regarded one another. They were as close to friends as two Chosen could be in the Shadow, but she would kill her eventually, just like she would kill any Chosen who denied her the position of Nae'blis. She had been one of the first to join the Shadow, but there were over one hundred of them already. Those were the serious contenders of course. If weak Aes Sedai managed to ally themselves to the Shadow, they would be severed and dead, in her hospital, or in Aginor's lab before the day was over. She had enforced that scenario at least fifty times already. Mesaana could probably boast the same, but it was not easy maintaining your position in the Shadow. She had been the target for open assassination five times already. Twice she had detected a trap moments before her room in the Fortress exploded into ruins. Twice some treacherous slime had sliced her gateway while she was returning to the Blight, almost cutting her in half. Only three weeks previously, some woman had torn apart the protective wards in her dreams and attempted to destroy her in Tel'aran'rhiod, which not even Lanfear could manage, and she had tried several times. It was only careful thinking and a clever diversion on her part that allowed her to escape the World of Dreams alive. The woman had been disguised but as soon as Semirhage appeared to have any advantage, the woman seemed to flee in terror – which was an extraordinary turnabout for a once superior opponent. She had caught and killed four of her assailants, but she feared she would never track the one who made the most recent attempt on her life.

Mesaana produced a grim smile. "About an hour ago, Elan used the International Conference on Poverty as a platform to announce his allegiance to the Great Lord. You should have seen his speech. It was impressive, although I think you would have relished the pandemonium afterwards. It was memorable." She finished with a rich laugh.

"Excellent," Semirhage said. "How did _he_ react?"

"As expected," she said, not at all confused by the vague question. "Lews Therin walked out, and within minutes he had declared that the Aes Sedai were now officially at war with the Shadow. Wait until he hears what the Trollocs are doing to Shayota."

So, war was imminent. She was glad that it had finally come to it. The years of secrecy and disguise were taxing for someone as prominent as her. Every few months she would spread her wings and design an atrocity in a major city which could easily be attributed to her.

"Better yet," Mesaana continued, her smile open and amused. "Within an hour of Lews Therin's announcement, the regional generals had unanimously named him as Captain General of the Light. Can you imagine what Barid is doing right now?"

Semirhage couldn't help but join Mesaana and her cutting laughter. "I wish I was there to see his humiliation. He probably thinks I can Foretell."

Mesaana threw back her head and laughed boorishly. "It's only a matter of time before he joins us. No doubt, he will try to prove himself more worthy than Lews Therin. Can you imagine how deadly he's going to be when he _finally_ turns?"

Semirhage smiled enthusiastically. "Indeed. He'll be almost invulnerable. We can use our influence with him to point him in the direction of some of our stronger allies. Men like him respond to the deepest sycophancy, or any comments which inflate their already bloated egos. Perhaps we should point him in Lanfear's direction first."

Mesaana's face instantly became somber and reproachful. "I grow bored of your opinion on Lanfear, Semirhage. You're going to get us both killed if you don't think rationally. Sarkan and Remis are greater threats at the moment, as you well know!"

It was true and rational, but she wasn't a ter'angreal. She could think for herself, and sometimes her instincts were as powerful as her intelligence, and usually as trustable. Lanfear could wait, even though it seemed like a penance from the Great Lord to cope with her existence. "Yes, perhaps you are correct. You and I can take Remis. He'll be in Comelle tomorrow trying to subvert one of Tel Janin's colonels. I worked out a way to easily expose him, and leave Tel Janin to do the rest. Make the plans."

Mesaana sniffed. "I don't take orders from you, Semirhage, but I incidentally accede that your plan has merit. We leave at dawn then. Bring your angreal, this time. I tire of your pride leading us to catastrophy. If the angreal had been in our possession in Tzora, perhaps we could have killed Illidan Raqwan Mendar too, and decapitated the leadership of the Eastern Armies. Instead, he escaped and I was nearly burned to ash." She didn't wait for a reply, and turned on her heel and walked back in the direction from where she came. Burned to ash! Foolish woman, becoming hysterical over a few scorched limbs. Mesaana knew Semirhage would Heal her wounds, but she'd wailed like a small child at her ruined body. It proved that even Aes Sedai didn't have full faith in the Power, or even Semirhage and her abilities. Eventually they would believe, but like all heathens they would need to be shown first.

The news Mesaana had given her had instantly named her as a General of the Shadow. It was a promising time for her, and Mesaana. The stakes were greater, the falls more dire. To have Lews Therin aiming for your throat seemed like the ultimate challenge, but in reality it was dangerous, a death sentence to anyone it included. She would have to step carefully, and double the venom of her strikes. She needed anger, and she knew where to find it.

Gliding down the passage, the glass doors of room eight opened when they detected her presence. There was a graying man hanging there naked, his face gaunt and body physically drained despite optimal forced nutrition and repeated Healing on her part. His breathing was drawn and laced with wheezes. She Delved him quickly and found that there were no physical abnormalities, which means that he had succumbed to mental factors once again. He was her greatest triumph, and she very much hoped her eternal one too. She started to weave Fire and Spirit, and it formed a net of surpassing complexity, honed to perfection over the years. Gooseflesh appeared on his skin, and like all the days which had preceded this one, the man started screaming before he was awake, or before her weave even touched him. He had long since stopped speaking, and had regressed to primitive whimpers and screams. His weakened eyes fluttered, and as soon as he saw her his pupils dilated and his howls reached hysterical levels. She smiled widely, and reached out with her weave. The glass doors closed…

The End.


End file.
